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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28290765">Two's Company</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/starsinhereyes_fireinherheart/pseuds/starsinhereyes_fireinherheart'>starsinhereyes_fireinherheart</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Flash (TV 2014)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>F/M, Westallen Secret Santa 2020</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-12-24</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-01-02</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-11 00:02:01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>28,394</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28290765</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/starsinhereyes_fireinherheart/pseuds/starsinhereyes_fireinherheart</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Inspired by Jane Austen's Emma. On the eve of publication of the most important article of her professional career thus far, Iris West realizes that she is head over heels in love with her best friend, Barry Allen. Trouble is she can't exactly tell him, for fear of ruining their friendship. But a weekend trip to Metropolis sets in motion a series of events which may force Barry and Iris to face some long-awaited, romantic truths. Written for this year's WestAllen Secret Santa event on tumblr.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Barry Allen/Iris West</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>7</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>52</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Part 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>A very special thank you to Caroline (ginandweas/barryallenis on tumblr) who beta-ed this fic. </p><p>This is the fully edited version of the fic that was originally posted on tumblr. I've only made a few minor changes since.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>        Perhaps the most notable visual extravagance at wedding receptions is the abundance of balloons, flowers, and the chiffon backdrops, draped like curtains, framing the table whereon sat the wedding cake. </p><p>        Iris is already trying to determine how she might steal away a few balloons, because really, nobody would miss them, and she had, after all, been the one sitting with the wedding planner for days on end, painstakingly selecting a theme for the reception and agonizing over every detail. Surely, after all her efforts, a few balloons going missing at the end of the party would be forgiven, if not unnoticeable. And she would be surreptitious about it too, seeing as how she would wait until the final guests, likely pleasantly drunk on champagne, rosé, and Prosecco, stumbled their way out of the Central City Gold Hotel. </p><p>        “Nice work, West.” Iris looks up to see her heavily pregnant sister-in-law take a seat next to her, while cradling a rather magnificent sundae in her hands, spoon hanging precariously atop the hazelnut fudge.</p><p>        “Thanks, but don’t you call my brother ‘West?’ Could get confusing,” Iris says, raising one eyebrow. </p><p>        “Yeah, but I’m <em>married</em> to Wally. Have been for three years. And so, it doesn’t have the same effect with him anymore. That’s the troublesome thing about marriage.” </p><p>        “Classic Linda Park logic,” Iris murmurs, before once again focusing on the balloons. They are all the same shade of ivory, which makes them particularly functional. For gift-giving purposes, that is. Gift-giving, Iris knows, is all about the presentation.</p><p>        “No, but seriously, Iris. I’m impressed. Joe and Cecile deserve the best, and this is, honestly, the best.”</p><p>        “Thanks, Linda. Dad deserves a perfect wedding day. As does Cecile. To be honest, I didn’t expect it to come together as beautifully as it did, but I’m still praying we see this thing to the end without any hiccups. We’ve got…” Iris taps the screen of her phone to check the time, “About three hours, at least, left.”</p><p>        “And it’s probably especially important to you. You know, because you played matchmaker for Joe and Cecile,” Linda says, while spooning a generous amount of ice cream, topped with fudge and sprinkles and coconut flakes, into her mouth. Iris’s brow furrows,</p><p>        “I did not ‘match-make’ my dad and Cecile. We’ve been over this Linda.” Linda begins to interrupt, but Iris shakes her head, “I know you seem to think that because I introduced my dad to Cecile that somehow this is my doing, but that’s untrue. To be honest, I didn’t expect them to hit it off so well, let alone date and get married within a year of my introducing them.” Cecile owns an interior design shop, which Iris had visited when she was helping Barry decorate his new apartment— a memory which immediately brings a smile to Iris’s face, for she fondly recalls Barry frantically searching eBay for a bed and a couch, and the way she had persuaded him that that was a terrible idea and instead found her way to Cecile’s trendy furniture boutique, which was also quite affordable. Cecile was so friendly and sweet, and Iris remembered her father struggling to date again, as it had been nearly a decade and a half since her mother had passed away, and so when she had thrown Barry a housewarming party, Iris figured that there was no harm in inviting Cecile, who had become friends with both Barry and Iris after hours spent together at the boutique, and introducing her to her dad. That had been a year ago. Now, they are at Joe West and Cecile Horton’s wedding reception.</p><p>        “Well, we can debate semantics, but you definitely match-maked Wally and me. You can’t deny that,” Linda says, matter-of-factly, before eating another scoop of her sundae.</p><p>        “I wouldn’t call it match-making. More like I have a sense for people that I know well and then introduce them, thinking that they may potentially like each other.”</p><p>        “You set Wally and I up on a blind date six years ago, and now we’re married and have twins on the way. I would say there’s a diabolical matchmaking side to you. Don’t tell me you don’t feel accomplished every time you successfully match-make a couple.”</p><p>        “Linda, I’ve only successfully match-maked— to use your word, which I still find objectionable, by the way— two couples. One was my brother and you. And you’re my best friend. The other was my dad and Cecile. That’s hardly a track record of successful matchmaking.”</p><p>        “But it could be. Think about it. This could be a lucrative side hustle.”</p><p>        “As if I would have time for a match-making side hustle, even if that was something I was interested in doing. I finally got my news site up and running, and <em>The Citizen</em> needs all hands on deck and then some. Besides, a matchmaking business is an exploitative way to make money.”</p><p>        “Mmm, maybe,” Linda seems to ponder this, momentarily, before changing topics, abruptly, “Speaking of which, I’m your best friend now? Thought that was a privilege exclusively afforded to Barry.” Iris has heard this before and rolls her eyes, exasperated,</p><p>        “My friendship with Barry is different. You know that.”</p><p>        “Actually I don’t know that. But I would <em>love</em> to be enlightened about <em>tha</em>t.” Linda’s response is far too smug for Iris’s liking, but before she can retort, she hears a familiar voice behind her, a voice that unquestionably wraps Iris in a cocoon of warmth, so that she feels instantly home,</p><p>        “I heard my name.” And although she cannot see him yet, she knows he’s smiling. </p><p>        “Was wondering where you were, Allen. It’s a rare sight that you and Iris would be separated at any point, when in the same vicinity.” Barry chuckles at Linda’s quip, settling into the chair on Iris’s right and brushing away a few plastic flowers that had come undone from the upholstery. Iris glances up at him, smiling widely, which he’s reciprocating in equal measure. He sets a plate, containing a chocolate fudge brownie topped with mint chocolate chip ice cream, in front of her. Iris’s eyes widen, as she glances from the plate to Barry; her face alight with unadulterated joy. </p><p>        “My hero,” she gasps, squeezing his hand and then truly taking in the scrumptious display of gooey chocolate and ice cream goodness.</p><p>        “Always,” he whispers, gazing at her, affectionately, before continuing, “I was wrangling the last brownie from old Mrs. Rogers, who apparently wanted to share it between herself and her cat. Although I don’t know,” Barry pauses for a moment, glancing around the reception hall, “if her cat is even here. Doubtful. Regardless, it took a great deal of speed, stealth, and possibly defying Newton’s first law of physics, because I could have sworn that I willed the brownie in my direction without even touching it, to retrieve this dessert.”</p><p>        “Don’t lie, Bear,” Iris says, her eyes sparkling with laughter, as she eagerly grabs her dessert fork, “Mrs. Rogers would never argue with you, if you wanted that brownie. She loves you.” </p><p>        “Yeah, it was just my regular, old charm. And by charm, I mean, because I tutor her grandson, Matt, in chemistry.” (Linda snorts at that.) “Still, I think defying Newton’s first law makes for a better story. But nobody was getting this brownie except for you, Iris. You know, we wouldn’t be sitting here if it wasn’t for you. I mean, just look at this place. It looks fantastic,” he raves, gesturing towards the décor, “The work you put into this is amazing. You’re amazing.”</p><p>        “Thank you, Barry.” She’s touched, not just because Barry managed to negotiate the last brownie from poor, old Mrs. Rogers with his rather endearing, tripping-over-his-feet-type charm, but also because he is being, as usual, so disarmingly complimentary of her. Barry never expects her to be amazing; he just thinks she’s amazing always, even when she’s at her lowest or when she is mistaken, and when Iris reflects deeply on that, it overwhelms her. It forces her to dwell on feelings untold; on how, whenever she sees him, she can’t help but smile, almost as if by instinct. </p><p> </p><p>
  <em>But she can’t think about it. She won’t think about it.</em>
</p><p> </p><p>        “Before you got here, Barry. I was telling Iris how she should really get into a matchmaking side hustle,” Linda says, forcing Iris to focus on the conversation taking place and not on… well, a place where she refuses to go. A place which she cannot explore. </p><p>        “Matchmaking?” Barry leans back, resting his arm on the back of Iris’s chair. “I don’t think that’s even remotely close to anything Iris-like.” Iris is acutely aware of how close his arm is to the bare skin of her upper back, but she ignores this. Or tries to.</p><p>        “Exactly. And so I was telling Linda how that’s an awful idea, and how I am pretty sure a matchmaking business, where I have zero actual knowledge about strangers’ interpersonal relationships, could be fraudulent. I can’t possibly claim to be an expert. I mean, no guarantees, right? Seems like a colossal waste of people’s money,” Iris remarks, still trying not to think about Barry’s arm on her chair, right near her back. And how (she thinks she had just imagined it but, no, it was real) he had seemingly shifted his arm, so his fingers are now grazing her skin; his touch is feather-light, equally comforting as it is emboldening. </p><p>        “That could be the genius of it, though. Enough people want to pay money for a matchmaker, even if it’s probably not going to be any more successful than a dating app. Throw in some good, old Cosmopolitan level astrology knowledge for marketing purposes. And there you have it. A potentially incredibly lucrative endeavor. Maybe I should start it myself,” Linda says, while still enjoying her sundae.</p><p>        “Why waste money on a matchmaker? Sometimes something incredible is right in front of you, and you just have to tell yourself it’s time to throw caution to the wind. A matchmaker can’t tell you that, only you can know that,” Barry sounds wistful when he says this, and Iris turns to him, abruptly, studying his expression. He’s looking straight ahead, but his gaze is demonstrable of clear desire, and upon hearing such longing in his voice, her stomach drops. Because that’s the face of someone in love. That’s the sound of someone in love. That’s the sound of someone who’s found their someone. But who could <em>her</em> Barry have found? When did he find someone? </p><p>        Iris is contemplating this, her stomach churning with her every thought, when the conversation shifts to pregnancy, as Linda comments how she’s always hungry and moody thanks to,</p><p>        “...These two whom Wally impregnated me with.” To which Barry laughs, his fingers still softly grazing Iris’s back, while Iris forces herself to smile along and even joke that Linda had talked her ear off about how much she wanted babies and how maybe she shouldn’t have gotten so ahead of herself. But Iris’s mind is still on Barry potentially having found someone. She knows she should be happy, monumentally happy, because Barry is happy, so she cannot fathom why she feels like she’s about to vomit. Suddenly, she has no appetite for her brownie and ice cream, but she eats to evade suspicion, because Barry would surely know something is wrong if she fails to eat her dessert. But from the way he’s carefully watching her, maybe he does know something is wrong already, and Iris wishes, not for the first time, that they did not know each other’s every fidget and expression, signaling a mood shift, so well.</p><p>        When the wedding reception is over and after Iris has said goodbye to every guest and promised her father and Cecile that she would be at their house the next day for their family dinner, she manages to take three ivory balloons with her to her car, without a single guest noticing. The decorator who had stayed to help her wrap up tells her that she can take any number of balloons that she would like. Or, perhaps more practically, however many would fit in her car. </p><p>*</p><p>        More accurately, perhaps, Iris <em>thinks</em> she had not been noticed by anyone, when she’d successfully managed to fit all three balloons in her car two nights ago. She’s standing on line at CC Jitters, the local hub for Central City citizens to get their morning coffee and pastry fix, and holding a basket, which contains baked goods, a carefully wrapped red scarf, and a small, navy blue bag. Tied onto the handle of the basket are the three balloons, still inflated. </p><p>        “For the boyfriend?” </p><p>        Iris turns to meet the friendly disposition of a blonde woman she’s never met before. Startled for a moment, Iris realizes, that the stranger is referring to her basket, and she smiles, shaking her head,</p><p>        “No, for a friend.” Although, given her thoughts lately, <em>friend</em> seems far too simple a word. She feels like she’s perjuring herself by saying <em>friend</em>, but<em> best friend who I’ve known since childhood and with whom I think I might have feelings for, but who is possibly in love with someone else</em> seems far too complicated, especially when Iris is not ready to admit this to herself, let alone to a stranger whom she meets for the first time on the queue for coffee. </p><p>        “Well, they’re lucky. You clearly put so much work into that. No friend has ever given me a gift like that. Actually nobody’s given me a gift that thoughtful before,” the stranger continues, before visibly cringing, “I’m sorry, I’m oversharing. I’m Patty, by the way.” </p><p>        “I’m…”</p><p>        “Iris!” There it is again, that feeling of home settling upon her shoulders, like a velvet cloak, shielding her, protecting her. Barry is walking towards her, holding two mugs of coffee, and when he stops before her, he presses his lips to her forehead briefly, a typical form of greeting between the both of them. But if he could hear the way her heart hammers against her chest whenever she feels the soft brush of his lips on her skin, then surely the ruse would be up. He would know how she feels, and so Iris is grateful, not for the first time, that her heartbeat is inaudible to anyone but her. </p><p>        “Hey, Bear, that for me?” she asks, nodding at one of the two mugs.</p><p>        “Yep. One Americano with an extra shot. Got here earlier and figured we could beat the line,” Barry grins, and he’s looking at her as if she’s the sun, and it’s almost too intense, perhaps because of all of those pesky feelings that she’s been feeling lately, so Iris breaks their gaze, remembering herself as well and turning back towards Patty.</p><p>        “Patty, this is my friend, Barry. Barry… Patty. We just met on the line.” Barry nods politely, as Patty says,</p><p>        “Nice to meet you.”</p><p>        “Likewise,” Barry responds. “New around here?”</p><p>        “Is it that obvious? I’m just about to start at CCU as a grad student. And so I’m trying to get used to the city. I’m originally from Midway.”</p><p>        “Yeah, understandable,” Iris smiles. “Takes awhile to get used to a new place, but CC Jitters is the best, so you’ll never be wanting for good coffee, that’s for sure.” Patty laughs, then,</p><p>        “Well, I’m glad for that. Anyways, I won’t keep you two. Thank you, Iris, for just chatting with me.”</p><p>        “Of course.” The three exchange polite goodbyes, and Barry and Iris make a beeline for their favorite booth in the farthest corner from the entrance to the coffee shop; a rather secluded, cozy spot that Iris had first started occupying, when she was a journalism student at Central City University. Barry had been a chemistry major, and they met up every morning for breakfast and would come to study nearly every weekend, armed with cookies, coffee, and blankets. Iris remembers long afternoons spent in this booth, her feet propped up on Barry’s lap, his hands massaging her calves, as they studied in companionable silence. </p><p>        It was in this booth that Iris had written article after article for <em>The Central Brief</em>, CCU’s university-wide newspaper, including her famed paper on the state of land rights of women, globally, that had won her the Scholastic Student of Journalism Prize and had given her the chance to speak in The Hague at an international conference on human rights. As Iris agonized over her field research, including research accumulated from summers of backpacking, Barry, while studying for his Protein Crystallography final, had been effusive in his support for her. He was constantly breaking from his studies to be her sounding board, should she need one, despite her reminding him time and again that he ought to concentrate on his own finals and not on her. He never listened, though, not that it in any way affected his marks. And so sure was he that her work would be honored that he’d planned a party, months in advance, before she had heard back from the National Committee for Excellence in Student Journalism and before she had been invited to The Hague. </p><p>        Indeed, it was Barry who had remarked then that Iris ought to consider starting her own news media site after university, stating that she already had the credentials to draw in a large audience and investors. </p><p>        “How are you feeling? About the exposé, I mean. Today’s the big day and all,” Barry says, as they settle into the booth, referring to what Iris considers to potentially be the most groundbreaking piece of journalism of her career thus far, namely an article exposing the rot of the biotechnology company, McCulloch Technologies. Its CEO, Joseph Carver, has been using the corporation as a front for a highly dangerous and illegal weapons trafficking scheme. The exposé, which is due to be published later today, will be a highly contentious article, no doubt, but Iris had long since decided that she will not rest until she sees justice through and the thousands of innocent people, caught in the crosshairs of Carver’s inhumane crimes, are safe.</p><p>        “Okay. I’m trying not to think about it, honestly,” Iris replies, and Barry takes her hand for a moment,</p><p>        “Hey, I get it. It’s hard not to be anxious, especially given the magnitude of the article and the far-reaching consequences it’s going to have. But I am so proud of you. And you should be proud of yourself as well,” he says, running his thumb over her knuckles slowly, before releasing her hand. Iris smiles softly, deeply touched by Barry’s faith in her,</p><p>        “Thanks, Bear.”</p><p>        “Of course,” he says, before gesturing towards the gift basket, “So, are you going to tell me who the basket is for?” Iris adopts a playful expression, then.</p><p>        “Hmmm, it’s for this friend of mine who just submitted his dissertation for his DSc.”</p><p>        “How did you know I submitted today? I told you my deadline was next week, which it is,” Barry states, apparently incredulous that Iris could have known that he had submitted his paper this morning. </p><p>        “I have my ways. And by that, I mean you drooling on my couch last week and mumbling, half-asleep, that you are definitely submitting your dissertation on Tuesday. Well, today’s Tuesday, Bear,” Iris teases, chuckling at the memory of Barry entering her apartment last week in need of caffeine, which culminated with him staying the night, when he fell asleep on her sofa. </p><p>        “I really can’t keep anything from you,” Barry sighs in mock frustration. “Although I really wouldn’t want to, anyways.” </p><p>        “Good. And think about it, now you have this nice surprise.” Barry takes the basket from Iris’s hands, admiring her handiwork, before giving her a sly smile,</p><p>        “Well, I guess I know why you took those balloons from the reception on Saturday.”</p><p><em>        Okay, so apparently she had not gone completely unnoticed. </em>One guest <em>had</em> noticed her attempt to fit three inflated balloons into her car. Unsurprising, she now reflected, given who that guest happened to be.</p><p>        “What? I have no idea what you’re talking about.”</p><p>        “Come on, Iris. I may not be able to keep anything from you, but you definitely cannot keep anything from me either.” <em>Are you sure about</em>, Iris thinks momentarily, before banishing the thought immediately. For she will not dwell on those feelings again, not when she stands to lose too much if they start consuming her. When Iris looks up again, Barry is looking through the basket, marveling at the baked cake lollipops and banana bread and brownies (Iris can only bake sweets, and she would never subject Barry to her cooking, although he claims it’s not as bad as she seems to think it is), before he takes the red scarf from the basket. “Iris…” he whispers, her name like a prayer on his lips, and there goes her heartbeat again, pounding against her chest. “You knitted this.” And she knows that he already knows that she did, but it’s the way he’s looking at her now, like there are not any words currently discovered to express to her how much this means to him. She gives him a comforting smile, hoping to diffuse some of the intensity of the emotions that are radiating off of him. </p><p>        “Open the rest,” she encourages, and he’s now holding the small, navy blue bag, and removing a velvet box from it. Encased in the box is a watch, which she’d been saving up for, because all of his watches are for some reason broken, and she can hear his gasp, nearly inaudible, and then he’s looking at her, solemnly, gravely.</p><p>        “Iris… I don’t know what to say. I don’t… thank you,” he says, his tone soft and tender.</p><p>        “Of course, Bear. I’m so proud of you, and I don’t think this simple gift basket really can quantify how proud I am of you.”</p><p>        “It’s not… it’s amazing. You’re amazing,” he says, and there it is again. How definitive it is to him that she’s amazing. And perhaps she forgives herself a little for her feelings then, for how can she not feel as she does when he says things like this to her every single day. He’s already wrapping the scarf on his neck and remarking how comfortable and warm it is. “I couldn’t get better knitted scarves at the store. I’m pretty sure you’re a superhero. You can literally do anything.” She listens to him wax on about her many, unbelievable talents, which she’s sure only he seems to think she possesses, before shaking her head, affectionately,</p><p>        “The scarf looks good on you. Red is your color.”</p><p>        “Always has been,” he jokes, although the emotion is still evident in his voice. “Come here,” he says then, reaching his arm towards her. She leaves her side of the booth to come over to his, and the moment she’s at his side, he wraps his arms around her, burying his nose in her hair, breathing deeply. She has one arm around his back, the other clutching his sweater, and her head is tucked into the crook of his neck, and Iris is sure that now he must be able to feel how rapidly her heart is beating. She’s cloaked in warmth and in comfort, and all she can think of is <em>home</em>. And all she can feel is love. The kind of tumbling, head over heels into a field of daisies type of love that Iris’s college friend, Cynthia Reynolds (now a hotshot litigator who works in BigLaw and who also is the Citizen’s unofficial legal counsel), claims is simply mushy, fairy-tale nonsense that couldn’t possibly exist outside of movies. Iris had laughed then, telling Cynthia that maybe she shouldn’t be so cynical. Cynthia had been unmoved, steadfast instead in her sentiment that people can fall in love, but that kind of <em>‘I want to go gallivanting in a forest somewhere and run towards you in a field, as if this is some god damn terrible romantic drama’ </em>love does not and cannot actually exist in real life. </p><p>        Well, Iris is feeling that mushy, fairy-tale type of love now (a fact which shocks her, despite the fact that she’s very aware of her growing pesky feelings), while wrapped up in Barry’s arms, so clearly, Cynthia had gotten it wrong. <em>Oh fuck.</em></p><p>*</p><p>        There are approximately fifteen different photos, capturing different angles of the McCulloch Technologies building, sitting on Iris’s desk when she walks into The Citizen that morning, after saying goodbye to Barry at Jitters, and all Iris can think about is the fact that she’s in love with her best friend. And as if her life could not be more complicated in that very moment, Barry is potentially in love with someone else.  </p><p>
  <em>Oh fuck. Oh fuck. Oh fuck.</em>
</p><p>        She cannot think about her feelings nor Barry being in love with some mystery human being right now, though, for she’s on the verge of publishing the explosive piece on Joseph Carver, who has been using his internationally successful technology company to peddle a highly intricate and complex hub-and-spoke conspiracy involving arms trafficking. He had managed to slither under the radar of inquiring agencies by acquiring different sorts of obscure technology, including ballistic software and parts that are often used to construct robots for laser guidance, under the guise of developing cutting-edge bio-technology. When Iris’s source had informed her that Carver’s labs were combining methane and ammonia, she knew that there was an underbelly of weapons-related criminality within the globally recognizable technology company, and armed with her pen, pepper spray, and sheer gumption, she and her photojournalist, Kamilla Hwang, had obtained press passes to Carver’s unveiling of robotic limbs. While there, Iris had asked janitors, low-level software engineers, and other personnel about why Carver’s labs were having methane and ammonia react with oxygen and how this in any way ameliorates existing biomedical technology. Iris and Kamilla eventually obtained access to a private press tour of Carver’s labs, where they noticed how jittery the staff had been, and after Iris had slipped her card to some of the employees, she had found herself, three days later, with nearly fifteen whistleblowers willing to come forward about nefarious activities in the labs.</p><p>        As it turned out, Carver’s labs had been trying to create and had indeed succeeded in creating a gun that releases hydrocyanic acid, which they are currently selling on the black market. This is the latest of extraordinarily dangerous weapons that Carver sells both domestically and internationally. Indeed, several politicians are in cahoots with Carver; Carver having made them rich men, in exchange for avoiding Congressional inquiries into McCulloch Tech. </p><p>        Now, Iris stands poised to publish the most explosive exposé of her career thus far, and the thought is both exhilarating and terrifying. </p><p>        She studies Kamilla’s photos of the McCulloch Tech building, now having to decide which one would accompany the headline that is due to go up right before noon. One photo stands apart among the rest: a shot of McCulloch Tech at night, illuminated by the lights of the city, but with only one floor of the building, the top floor, indicating any activity: the lights of the top floor are on, and the rest of the building is largely camouflaged by the night sky. That top floor contains the only working laboratory at headquarters and is where hydrocyanic acid is processed. <em>This is the photo</em>, Iris thinks, just as she hears a commotion at the door and sees her newest hire, Allegra Garcia, forcefully wrangle open the door, rather dramatically, before slamming it shut.</p><p>        “Hey, boss,” Allegra says. “We have got to get that door fixed. I’m telling you; it’s trying to kill me every time I arrive.” Iris chuckles fondly at Allegra’s dramatics,</p><p>        “You’re the only one who seems to be constantly battling the door, Allegra. There are four other people who work here who seem to have no trouble getting in and out of the office.”</p><p>        “Well, I don’t know, but this door has had it out for me since I began working here. And so… oh! Are those the photos? How much time have we got until noon…?” Allegra pauses momentarily, as she taps her phone, which she was holding in one hand, “Forty minutes. Fantastic.” Iris smiles, watching Allegra race up to her desk, excitedly. Two of the reasons that she had hired Allegra was for her enthusiasm about reporting and for her passion for ethical journalistic integrity, both of which she demonstrates every day on the job.  </p><p>        “This is the one I want to use to accompany the article,” Iris explains, while pushing the photograph towards Allegra, whose eyes widen when she sees the photo. </p><p>        “Yeah, this is incredible. I know Kamilla must have camped out awhile to get this shot,” she exclaims, before looking up at Iris, “We’re really gonna do this, boss. We’re gonna expose Carver and who knows? You might win a Pulitzer from this.” </p><p>        “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves. We have to publish the exposé first, and our legal team has been sending me messages since this morning about how she is obligated to warn us about frivolous defamation suits that Carver might file in the immediate aftermath. But the truth is more important. Let Carver sue us; if he does, he’s going to lose anyways.” Although, to be completely accurate, the Citizen’s unofficial legal team, comprising of one Cynthia Reynolds, whose texts to Iris consisted of, “Carver is definitely going to sue you for defamation, so I’ve got to warn you of that, but screw that guy. Publish and destroy him once and for all,” were certainly more emboldening than averting. Iris is also quite certain that that is technically not sound legal advice, in the least.</p><p>        The door opens again, and in walks Kamilla, joined by the two other reporters at <em>The Central City Citizen</em>, Kara Danvers and James Olsen. They’re all chatting animatedly about the exposé and the explosive ripple effects its publication might have. </p><p>        “He’s an absolute monster,” Kara tells James, no doubt referring to Carver. “I mean, hydrocyanic acid? The sheer inhumaneness of his crimes just to fill his coffers…” </p><p>        “Evil folks will do absolutely anything to satisfy their greed, including murdering people,” James observes, and Iris knows this is perhaps a fundamental truth of which every investigative journalist must be aware. Kamilla walks up to Iris’s desk and grins when she sees Iris scanning the chosen photo onto her computer,</p><p>        “That’s the one, isn’t it? When I captured it, I knew I had gotten it. It took me, I think, nearly five hours of camping out, and it was 2:45 AM yesterday when I finally had managed to take that photo.” </p><p>        “It’s incredible, Kamilla,” Iris praises. “All your photos are great, but this one is fantastic. It captures exactly what we need to accompany the article.” When Iris had taken this on by herself, she had been wary about putting any of her reporters in danger, but Kamilla had insisted that she accompany Iris in order to take photographs. In hindsight, Iris is incredibly grateful to have had Kamilla by her side through it all, for her calm, steady demeanor was vital amidst the insanity of taking on Joseph Carver. Kara and James, who have caught up to the others, both make approving noises, congratulating Kamilla on her photography, as Iris continues to work to format the article. </p><p>        When she is satisfied with the formatting, she taps her phone, seeing that there is roughly twenty minutes remaining until the deadline, and while her reporters are chattering excitedly, the door opens once more, and Iris is greeted by the sight of Wally carrying two champagne bottles in one hand and precariously balancing a few glasses in his other hand. On his heels is Barry, who is carrying a large white box with the words ‘Zulma’s Pastries’ emblazoned on the top, and Iris is flooded with that <em>fairy-tale, gallivanting in a field of daisies</em> feeling again, to which she now finds she is already getting accustomed, which is a somewhat terrifying thought. </p><p>        While Iris has some idea as to why both of them are in her office, she is also aware that Dr. Wally West is supposed to be at work at Central City Hospital, and Barry is supposed to be meeting the Dean of Graduate Studies at CCU about a potential professorship. </p><p>        “What are you two doing here?” Iris asks, smiling nonetheless, for she is touched that they likely took time out of their busy days to celebrate the publication of the exposé. She had not mentioned the details of the publication to them, in an effort to protect her sources, but Linda had let it slip to Wally that Iris is publishing the article on Tuesday at the wedding on Saturday, and Barry… well, Barry knows everything about Iris, just the way she knows everything about him, so his appearance in her office twenty minutes before she is meant to publish the most important exposé of her professional career is even less surprising than Wally’s.</p><p>        “I can’t believe you thought we weren’t going to come and crash this… pathetic party, quite frankly,” Wally says, frowning, as he takes in the Citizen office, which while buzzing with the excitement of determined reporters, is not exactly set up for any sort of impending celebration. “You have nothing here to celebrate, Iris. No food, no drinks, nothing.” </p><p>        “We haven’t even published, and we have no idea of the repercussions of a piece like this, Wally. I think our sheer grit as reporters is celebratory enough.” </p><p>        “We knew you were going to say that,” Barry chuckles, placing the box on a desk adjacent to Iris’s, and then helping Wally with the champagne glasses. “But Linda and I wanted this to be a surprise. We managed to get Wally to help, which is good…”</p><p>        “Linda’s not feeling well,” Wally cuts in. “She was having awful morning sickness, and I told her I didn’t want to go and that Barry could do the heavy-lifting, but she threatened me and sent me away with two of our best champagne bottles.” Iris begins to protest, but Wally continues on, “And honestly, Iris, before you say anything, I’d rather get an earful from you about leaving Linda at home for this— and by the way, she’s feeling much better, thanks to the fact that I’ve finally perfected the art of making a ginger and mint smoothie— than defy her orders.” </p><p>        “Glad to see your theatrics are still in top form,” Iris deadpans, before turning to Barry, pointedly, “Thank you, Barry. You and Linda really didn’t have to do all of this. I haven’t even published it yet.” </p><p>        “Excuse me, I helped!” Wally interjects, and Barry is laughing now as Iris reaches up to give him a quick hug, which he returns immediately. As they break apart, Barry’s hand lingers on her arm.</p><p>        “You’re welcome,” he says. “I wanted this to be a surprise and that’s why I didn’t mention earlier coming by later on. And I knew you could have used a distraction this morning from thinking about the exposé.”</p><p>        “I did need a distraction,” Iris smiles, still keenly aware of his fingers slowly brushing against her arm, gently, tenderly. </p><p>        “I imagine you did. But to reiterate what I said earlier this morning, I’m so proud of you. So, so proud of you.” He cups her face with one hand, gently caressing his thumb against her cheek, and he’s gazing at her with so much emotion in his eyes, and she knows that the same intensity that had radiated off of him when she’d gifted him the basket earlier this day is emanating from him now, and she cannot help but wonder if he feels what she feels, because in these moments, she’s sure he must be. </p><p>        Wally clears his throat loudly, while pouring out the champagne, and both Barry and Iris break away from each other quickly. When Iris looks up at Wally, he’s giving her that same look Linda had given her at the wedding reception on Saturday, when she had clarified that her friendship with Barry was <em>different</em>. Unwilling to entertain the idea that Wally and Linda have discussed her feelings for Barry, she turns to her reporters, who are already opening Barry’s box of sweets.</p><p>        “Brownies!” Kara yelps, eyeing the chocolate chip, fudge brownies and quickly grabbing paper plates from the Citizen’s supply cupboard. </p><p>        “Thank you, Barry! We really needed this,” James agrees, while Kamilla and Allegra join their colleagues in helping themselves to the scrumptious sweets and expressing their gratitude. </p><p>        “We’re not going to get any work done today, but it’s fine. Thanks, Bear,” Iris laughs, as Barry hands her a glass of champagne. They clink their glasses together, before sipping their respective drinks.</p><p>        “The Citizen can use a break. Especially you,” Barry says after a few moments, giving Iris a pointed look. “You’ve had countless sleepless nights over the research for this, and now it’s ready for the public to read. You deserve a whole week long break, at the very least.”</p><p>        “The news doesn’t stop for me to catch up on sleep, unfortunately. I have three upcoming potential stories, including the ways in which exam software companies have violated the privacy of examinees.”</p><p>        “Sounds like you’re about to become the hero of every university student everywhere. I can’t believe the vagueness of some of those disclaimers that exam software companies put out, as if students have any choice but to use them, when they have examinations online.”</p><p>        “Yeah, exactly. And if nobody holds their feet to the fire, they think that they can get away with anything. That’s why I’ve got to do it.”</p><p>        “Iris West saves the world yet again. That should be a headline. Maybe I should pitch it to Central City Picture News. Think Scott Evans would run a headline on his biggest rival?”</p><p>        “Scott would definitely do it, if it brings CCPN good business. Besides, our rivalry is more friendly than anything else. That said, ‘Iris West Saves the World Yet Again’ sounds more like I’m saving the world with superpowers, not the power of a pen and a public audience. I think you might be overselling me just a little bit.”</p><p>        “Absolutely not,” Barry says, affronted. “Iris West is my hero, and she always has been, so I think you’re underestimating her. She’s a total superhero.” </p><p>        “Doubtful.”</p><p>        “Don’t try to tell me that you’re not a superhero, Iris. You’re definitely not going to win this argument.”</p><p>        “Fine, I’ll level with you. Because you know what they say, right? Every superhero has her own hero? Well, if I am a superhero, then I have a confession to make: my hero happens to be this guy I know… superheroes need strength to be invincible, right? So yeah, this guy is my constant strength. Maybe you know him? Name’s Barry Allen?” Barry blushes furiously at that, ducking his head bashfully, and Iris thinks, <em>Success!</em> She knows she’s rendered him flustered, and he’s so adorably handsome, as he fidgets with his hands, as if searching for something to hold. But even despite his flustered state, he remembers the ongoing debate, and he manages a,</p><p>        “Alright, alright. You win, Iris.” Iris smiles at him, radiantly and triumphantly, just as Wally makes his way over to them, holding a champagne glass of his own, and he’s got a rather sheepish look on his face, which immediately makes Iris suspicious.</p><p>        “I know that face, Wall. What’s going on?” </p><p>        “Nothing. Not every expression of mine means something,” Wally says, immediately defensive. “Although, I do have to ask you a small favor. But really, it’s not a favor, because it’s actually going to be great for you. So it’s <em>technically</em> a favor, but a favor that you’ll enjoy.” </p><p>        “Of course you think so. What is it?” Iris asks, tiredly, knowing immediately that she probably was not going to enjoy this favor as much as Wally seems to think. </p><p>        “Okay, so you know Cecile’s god son, Eddie Thawne? He couldn’t come to the wedding, because he was away on an emergency business trip?”</p><p>        “Yeah, I know Eddie,” Iris responds, confused as to what he had to do with whatever Wally was asking of her. Eddie Thawne was the son of Cecile’s best friend, a wealthy hotelier, and he’d been friendly enough in the few interactions that Iris had had with him, but she cannot claim to know him all that well.</p><p>        “Right, so he’s hosting this gala in Metropolis for dad and Cecile this Saturday. It’s very last minute, found out last night, actually… and well, I’d told dad I was going to go, because you know, one of us should go, right? Technically, both of us should, but dad didn’t want to trouble you, because you’ve been so busy with work, and it’s not a big deal. In fact, I think dad didn’t want you to know, because he thought you might get the wrong idea and think that this gala was going to upstage all the work you put in for the actual wedding and reception, which I kept insisting to him you wouldn’t think at all. And I don’t want to leave Linda, even for the weekend. She keeps telling me she’ll be fine, and I know she’s not due for another two months, but I’m not comfortable going.”</p><p>        “So, you want me to go,” Iris says, knowing exactly what her brother was asking of her. On the one hand, traveling to Metropolis for the weekend for a gala made Iris nervous, because she does not want to leave Central City for at least a week after the McCulloch Tech article is published, but on the other hand, Wally could not be expected to attend, and it would be wrong if both of them missed a gala that was being held for their dad and Cecile. </p><p>        Wally is apparently under the impression that Iris might need some more coaxing, so he puts his champagne glass down and reaches into his coat pocket, brandishing four plane tickets.</p><p>        “Here, the flight tickets are on me. Eddie is putting people up in rooms at his family’s hotel, and he apparently booked four rooms between the two of us, so we could each bring some guests. With Linda and I not going, you’ll have at least three rooms to fill.”</p><p>        “It’s fine, Wally. I’ll go. You’re right; we should go for dad and Cecile, and you honestly cannot and should not go. I just have to find people who can take a trip with me, last minute…” Iris knows whom she would want to invite, and so she turns to Barry, immediately. “Look, Bear, I know it’s short notice, but…”</p><p>        “Yeah, I’ll come,” Barry agrees quickly, before she can even finish posing the question, and Iris notices that he has a slightly agitated expression, which worries her. His hand clenches the edge of her desk, rather forcefully, and so she places her own hand over his, reassuringly, and this seems to relax him, at least momentarily, as she can feel some of the tension in his muscles evaporate slowly. He smiles, then, perhaps trying to mask his sudden agitation, “My weekend’s free, and we were just talking about how you could use a break, Iris. This’ll be good, as it’s a vacation of sorts.” </p><p>        “Thanks, Barry. I’ll also ask Cynthia; she could always use a break, and Bear, why don’t you invite someone?”</p><p>        “I’ll ask Cisco.” Iris glances up at Barry, and they both share a knowing look: they had been trying to get Cynthia and Barry’s old college roommate and engineering genius extraordinaire, Cisco Ramon, to meet for ages (<em>So much for swearing off match-making</em>, Iris thinks then), but they had not had the chance to introduce the two of them yet. This trip might just provide the long-awaited, golden opportunity.</p><p>        “Perfect,” Wally says, considerably relieved, but before Iris can respond, she finds herself surrounded by her fellow reporters who are telling her that it’s just before noon. She nods, waiting until everyone is gathered around her, and Barry’s arm comes around her shoulders, providing her with both comfort and strength. And while a sudden, rather dignified silence, perhaps to mark the solemnity of this publication, descends upon the Citizen, Iris can feel the soundless excitement of Kamilla and of Allegra and of Kara and of James, as she publishes the exposé on the Citizen’s website. </p><p>*</p><p>        Thus, late that Friday afternoon, Iris finds herself boarding a plane with Barry, Cynthia, and Cisco, in tow, and she’s only half paying attention to Cisco’s exuberance in describing his latest inventive feat at S.T.A.R. Labs, the product technology company he works for, because Barry is acting… odd. He has been acting odd since he had accepted her invitation to come along to Metropolis, and she cannot fathom what it is about this trip that has him so on edge. He is fidgeting so much, and every time he notices that she notices, he gives her a forced smile, as if to divert her suspicions away from his agitation, but that only serves to increase her worries. Whatever is bothering him so much is something that he apparently is unwilling to share with her. </p><p>        “...It’s insane. I mean, if we get this right, we will be revolutionizing tablet computers and robotic interpreters,” Cisco is saying, and Iris is sure that if Cisco is put to the task, he and his team certainly would get it done, for she has witnessed his genius first hand before, when, during a birthday party for his best friend, Caitlin Snow, a few years back, the power had blown and there had been no backup generator, and Cisco had managed to create a temporary power source seemingly out of thin air. Iris is sure that there were numerous devices at Cisco’s disposal, and he’d had the aid of Caitlin’s then boyfriend, now husband, Ronnie, also an engineer, but it was the sheer ingenuity of Cisco’s engineering ability and the sheer determination to get this done and to ensure Caitlin had the party that she deserved that was so impressive. </p><p>        “If anyone can get it done, though, it’s Cisco Ramon,” Iris voices her thoughts, and Cisco smiles proudly,</p><p>        “Thanks, Iris. It’s definitely going to be a lot of work, but I definitely think we’re headed in the right direction. Hopefully.”</p><p>        “Hmmm, it all sounds impressive, but what are the patenting ramifications that come with such a unique project. Surely, you’re worried about somebody trying to build upon your product once it’s out in the market. How stringent is your patent going to be?” Cynthia, ever the cynic, adds, eyeing Cisco.</p><p>        “I don’t want to hog all the spotlight, honestly. We want other people and companies to be able to build on our findings and develop even better tech. There’ll be a patent, but it’s not going to be exclusive.” </p><p>        “You’re way too nice.”</p><p>        “I’m just here to improve tech. Being nice isn’t a crime, I hope,” Cisco laughs, and Cynthia shakes her head fondly, clearly believing Cisco to be naive, but apparently endeared to his naiveté, nonetheless. Cisco and Cynthia, still playfully arguing about the stringency of a future patent, take their seats in the middle row, and Iris and Barry, the latter who is still distracted, sit by the window across the aisle. </p><p>        “Bear, what’s going on?” Iris sighs, finally, turning to him, once they’ve taken their seats. Barry looks up at her, startled and guilty, and immediately starts deflecting,</p><p>        “Nothing. I’m fine, Iris, really. I’m sorry, I’ve been a bit out of it. Just… I don’t know, I’m fine.” Iris can tell that he’s not going to be forthcoming with her, no matter how persistent she is, but she is not ready to drop the issue entirely.</p><p>        “I’m not going to press you, but you know that if something is bothering you, I’m always here, if you want to talk. You know that, right?”</p><p>        “Of course I know that. Of course I do,” Barry says, his voice tender. “And I’m the luckiest guy in the world for it. I’m sorry that I’ve been out of it the last couple of days, I just… I don’t want you to worry about me. That’s the last thing I want.” Iris can tell he’s struggling between telling her and being evasive, so she takes his hand in her own, their fingers interlocking almost instinctively. She squeezes his hand, as his thumb brushes against her knuckles. </p><p>        “I’m going to worry, because it’s you, and so I can’t not worry, but I don’t want you to tell me anything when you’re not ready to.” Barry’s free hand comes to cup her chin, as he brings her closer to him, and she basks in the warmth of his hand against her skin. When his lips meet her forehead, she closes her eyes and relishes his lingering kiss, and she knows… she knows that she’s unequivocally in love with him, and she’s sure that she has been for quite some time, and all she wants to do is lift her face and coax his lips to hers, but she can’t. She knows that she can’t. She can’t ruin their equilibrium, because if she were to admit her feelings and lose Barry’s friendship completely… that is a possibility that she cannot risk. </p><p>        “I know how deeply you care. And I love you for it,” he whispers against her forehead.</p><p><em>And I love you for it</em>. </p><p>        He’s told her he loves her so many times over the two decades that they’ve known one another, and she knows that he means it platonically, as he always has, but that doesn’t stop her from imagining that he loves her in the same way that she loves him. </p><p>        And when Barry falls asleep, after the plane takes off, and drops his head low, so that he rests comfortably on her shoulder, his face turned into the crook of her neck, so that she can feel his steady breaths fanning against her skin, Iris leans her head against his, and she thinks that this is what true tranquility feels like. </p><p>
  <em>And I love you for it.</em>
</p><p>       </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Part 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>“You and I are the dream team,” Barry corrects, emphatically, and he’s smiling widely at her and refusing to break their gaze, and she thinks… she thinks he too must be feeling this intensity that has persistently lingered between them since their almost kiss, and she wonders for just a moment that maybe, just maybe, he feels the same way. </p><p>Her hand comes to rest on the wedding band, just above the bodice of her cocktail dress, and his eyes track the movement, first tracking her neck, then her collarbones, and then the dip of her cleavage which disappears beneath her dress. She thinks she sees his tongue dart out momentarily over his lips, and she feels hot, suddenly, and she’s sure it has nothing to do with the warm, summer night. </p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I truly appreciate the kind feedback so far, and I hope you enjoy this chapter.<br/>Once again, thank you to Caroline (ginandweas/barryallenis on tumblr), who beta-ed this fic.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>        The mirror in the bathroom is foggy from the steam of the shower, and as Iris traces circles on its surface to clear the mistiness, she feels more relaxed than she has in days. The hot shower was exactly what she needed, and perhaps this impromptu vacation is a blessing in disguise, for she knows she had been overworked and overtired the past few weeks as she agonized over the research for the McCulloch Tech exposé. Even now, the article is not far from her mind, and the last few days have been hectic: Carver had immediately filed a defamation lawsuit on Tuesday, and Iris had had Cynthia file a response on Wednesday. Meanwhile, the public response to the exposé has been overwhelmingly positive, with Iris and Kamilla already being praised for their meticulousness in investigative reporting, and the news world is currently buzzing with anticipation about the long-term ramifications of the piece. Iris hopes that truth will ensure that justice will be done. </p><p>        As Iris contemplates truth and justice, she steps out of the bathroom and sees the two cocktail dresses that she had laid out for tonight: a red, shimmery number and a lacy, black fitted dress that comes half-way down her thighs.</p><p>        The fact that she is attending a party tonight comes as a bit of a surprise.</p><p>        When Iris, Barry, Cisco, and Cynthia had arrived at The Time Metropolis, they had been checked in rapidly and informed that Eddie Thawne had invited them to a cabaret performance that night.</p><p>        “Mr. Thawne is sorry to have missed you, as he is in meetings this afternoon, but he has asked us to invite you to our Friday night cabaret at the Trajectory Club on our terrace. He has told us that he will meet you there and hopes that you will join, even though the invitation is last minute,” a lady at the concierge informed them.</p><p>        “Sweet!” Cisco had exclaimed, but Barry and Cynthia had seemed far less enthused at the prospect of having to attend a cabaret and socialize that very night. While Iris had been somewhat surprised at the invitation, especially because her father and Cecile are only arriving tomorrow for the gala, the concierge had confirmed that this was a night for the young people invited to tomorrow’s gala. Iris had found this odd, given the fact that this weekend was meant to celebrate her dad and Cecile. Still, not wanting to be rude, given the effort Eddie seemed to be putting into this weekend, Iris had accepted. She had privately told Barry, Cynthia, and Cisco that if they did not want to attend, they didn’t have to.</p><p>        “It’s fine,” Cynthia had responded. “While I would have been perfectly fine binge-watching Netflix, I’m not going to leave you without a wing-woman.” </p><p>        “I need no convincing,” Cisco had said. Barry, who had gone very quiet up until that point, agreed to come, albeit very reluctantly,</p><p>        “I have no idea why this guy would plan an event tonight when Joe and Cecile won’t even be here to attend. But since we’re invited, I guess we should go.”</p><p>        Thus, Iris finds herself having to prepare for an unexpected night at the hotel’s terrace club. The red, shimmery dress is a favorite, but it’s for very specific occasions, and unsure what the atmosphere will be tonight, Iris figures that the lacy, black dress is the safer option, and she picks out the eye shadow and earrings that would best suit the dress. As she adorns herself with her garnet, dangling earrings, she hears a knock at her hotel room door. </p><p>        “Just a minute!” she calls, as she adds the soft backs to her earrings. Upon opening the door, she is greeted by the sight of Barry in a dark shirt and jeans, holding a small, red bag. “Bear,” she smiles, just as he says,</p><p>        “Iris.” And he’s looking at her, wide-eyed and apparently speechless, and Iris feels both stunning and powerful under his gaze. They’re staring at each other, neither saying a word, and Iris wonders who might speak first, but she does not have to wait long, because Barry shakes his head quickly, relieving some of the intensity, and smiles, “You look absolutely beautiful.” (And when he says that to her, so unassumingly, Iris is absolutely sure that she would love to run through a field of daisies and into Barry’s arms right about now, but she manages to compose herself.) </p><p>        “Thanks, Barry. You look good, yourself.” She lets him into her room and shuts the door. “You’re early. I thought we were meeting by the elevator at ten to eight.” </p><p>        “Yeah, we are… we were, but I have something for you,” he says, holding up the red bag. “I wasn’t able to give this to you on Tuesday, and then there was all the craziness of this last minute trip, and I know you’ve noticed that I’ve been preoccupied lately, which I am sorry about, by the way, and I know you definitely deserve an explanation.”</p><p>        “Bear, you don’t need to apologize. Or explain.”</p><p>        “No, I really do. And I want you to know that I’m glad we’re here. I really am. I kept telling you you needed a vacation, and I stand by that, and I want this weekend to be absolutely great for you.”</p><p>        “Well,” Iris says. “You’re with me, aren’t you? So it’s bound to be a pretty great weekend, no matter what else happens.” Barry chuckles, but there’s a forlornness to his laugh.</p><p>        “So, I got this for you. For your incredible journalistic achievements and for all your successes that I know you’re going to have in the future as the greatest journalist this world has ever known.”</p><p>        “Barry, you shouldn’t have,” Iris whispers, overcome with emotion, as she takes the bag from him and finds a black, velvet box, which she removes from the bag, carefully. Setting the bag on the bed, she opens the box, revealing a white gold wedding band set on a delicate chain. Iris takes a deep breath as she realizes what she is looking at: the wedding band is the same as her mother, Francine’s, wedding band. Or rather it’s a perfect replica, for her mother’s wedding band was misplaced when her father sold their old home after Francine had passed away, and Iris had been distraught then. But here, in her hands, is a stunning replica of the wedding band, and she cannot imagine the trouble Barry must have taken to have the band replicated perfectly, especially because he did not have the original. “Mama’s wedding band,” Iris starts, but is unable to continue, tears spilling from her eyes. She feels Barry’s thumbs underneath her eyes, brushing away her tears, and Iris looks up and sees him watching her with such ineffable tenderness that she is unable to hold his gaze for too long, bashfully looking down at her toes.</p><p>        “I remember when this wedding band was misplaced in the move between houses, and I remember how devastated you were, because that was one of the few tangible things you had of your mom. I asked Joe if he had a photo that clearly shows your mom’s wedding band, and luckily he had one, and so I took it to the jewelers, and they were able to replicate it perfectly. I know it can’t compare to the original but…”</p><p>        “It’s perfect, Barry. I don’t even know what to say. That you remembered, that you took so much time to give this to me… I… I can’t even tell you what this means to me. I’ve waited so many years to have some closure, and I just…” Iris’s voice breaks, and Barry pulls her to him, cradling her head against his chest. “...Thank you, Bear,” she says, softly. Silence descends upon them, and Iris feels Barry’s hands slip to her waist, and she shivers, lifting her head slightly to look up at him, and his gaze is… so loving, so reverent. One hand remaining on her waist, he reaches his other hand down to tuck a loose strand of her hair behind her ear, and his touch lingers on her cheek, caressing the skin just below her earlobe. And she’s not sure which one of them moves first, but she feels this invisible pull, pushing her up to her tip-toes as Barry bends his head towards hers, his hand gently tilting her chin upward, and their lips are just inches apart, and Iris cannot possibly rationalize what is about to happen, but her heart is racing, and all she feels is longing and desire and love.</p><p>        But there’s a loud knock on her door, and Cynthia is yelling,</p><p>        “Iris, where are you? We need to get going.”</p><p>        The moment evaporates, and Iris is flooded with disappointment, as Barry’s hands fall to his sides. She can’t quite gauge his expression, as he’s not looking at her, but towards the door, rather pensively. It frustrates her that she is unable to determine what he’s thinking now, when usually he’s an open book to her. </p><p>        “We should go, yeah?” Iris asks, as she puts the necklace on, and Barry nods, still not meeting her eye.</p><p>        “Yeah,” he whispers, hoarsely, following her to the door. Cynthia is impatient when Iris opens the door, but when she sees Barry, her eyes widen, and she gives Iris a desperate look, which Iris figures is meant to be apologetic. As they head to the elevators, where Cisco is waiting, Iris in any other situation may have been left to wonder if yet another person to whom she is close is aware of how she feels about Barry, but instead she cannot quite believe that she and Barry had been about to kiss and what this could possibly mean. <em>Did Barry feel the same way she did? He had to, right?</em> <em>People don’t nearly kiss people they don’t have feelings for. </em>Iris’s mind is reeling with the possibilities of Barry reciprocating her feelings, but a betraying voice in her head reminds her: <em>What if this is all too good to be true?</em> And just like that, she feels sick to her stomach.</p><p>*</p><p>        The Trajectory Club on the rooftop terrace of the Time Metropolis is a sight to behold, with its sleek architectural finish of black marble and its incredible views of Metropolis. High tables of black marble and ivory cushioned stools circle the perimeter of the club, and a dance floor is at the center of the terrace, although nobody is currently occupying it. There are several microphones, however, no doubt for the upcoming cabaret performance, and servers are providing beverages and finger foods to customers. </p><p>        “This is <em>noice</em>,” Cisco remarks. “It’s a good thing you invited me to this shindig, Barry.”</p><p>        “Anytime, man, although you should be thanking Iris,” Barry chuckles. </p><p>        “Thanks, Iris.” Iris nods at Cisco with a smile, but she’s so preoccupied that she can barely concentrate on the conversation; indeed, it’s certainly atmospherically a very nice club, but Iris finds herself hardly enjoying that fact, and unlike Cisco, she’s dreading the night out. Cynthia nudges her side and asks in a low voice,</p><p>        “What’s wrong?” Iris opens her mouth to answer, but sees Eddie Thawne headed in their direction with a suspiciously familiar woman and mouths, </p><p><em>        “Later</em>,” to Cynthia, who, in response, fixates Iris with a look that conveys that this is a conversation that they absolutely will be having at some point in the near future.</p><p>        “Iris West,” Eddie exclaims when he is close enough, wrapping Iris in a hug, which startles Iris, as she and Eddie are acquaintances at best. She returns his hug, politely, but from the corner of her eye, she sees Barry tense and that agitated energy that he’s been carrying with him for days is now particularly palpable. “Good to see you again. Thank you so much for coming.”</p><p>        “Eddie, hi. Thanks for inviting us. I’m sorry that Wally and Linda couldn’t make it,” Iris responds, quickly extricating herself from Eddie’s embrace and crossing her arms over her chest. “These are my friends: Barry, whom you’ve met before, and Cynthia, and Cisco.” </p><p>        “Nice to meet all of you. Good to see you again, Barry.” </p><p>        “Likewise,” Barry responds tightly, and when they shake hands, it feels distinctly unfriendly, which confuses Iris, because she’s sure Barry and Eddie have met only once before, and they had been cordial with one another at the time. </p><p>        “Thanks for inviting us all out here,” Cisco then interjects, and the tension seemingly dissipates, as Eddie and Cisco shake hands, and then Cynthia and Eddie exchange pleasantries.</p><p>        The woman accompanying Eddie steps out from behind him, and Iris is shocked, for she has met her before, which would, she figures, explain why the woman had looked so familiar from a distance.</p><p>        “Patty?” Iris queries, and Patty smiles brightly,</p><p>        “Hi, Iris! Wow, I didn’t realize you and Barry were Eddie’s friends. Small world.”</p><p>        “You two know each other?” Eddie asks, although his tone suggests that he’s not actually interested in the story behind that, more that he’s inquiring perfunctorily. </p><p>        “Not exactly, but I ran into Iris and Barry on a line at a coffee shop in Central City. Iris was nice enough to entertain my rambling.”</p><p>        “Not at all. I enjoyed our brief, random conversation. Strangers on a queue waiting for morning coffee? There are always good stories to be had there,” Iris responds, and Patty smiles gratefully at her. </p><p>        “So how do you two know each other?” Barry asks.</p><p>        “Oh, Patty and I are old friends. We went to MetU together. Figured she could use a break from studying for her masters, so I invited her here for the weekend,” Eddie explains quickly. “Anyways, shall we? I have a table for six back there.” The group moves away from the entrance, and Iris sees that the table in question is a bit larger than the rest. Like all the tables in the club, it is made completely of black marble with a sun-burst design adorning the center. </p><p>        As they take their seats, Iris finds herself sitting in between Barry and Patty, with Eddie on Patty’s right, Cisco on Barry’s left, and Cynthia between Cisco and an empty chair, which is also on Eddie’s right. Cisco and Cynthia start chatting the moment they get settled, still arguing (rather flirtatiously… and Iris is impressed at how flirtatious they have managed to make patents) about whether or not Cisco should strengthen his future patent, and while Iris is unsure how long they can keep discussing that, they also seem very engrossed in this conversation. Barry nudges Iris’s elbow with his own gently, and she turns to him, and upon seeing his rather conspiratorial grin, she smiles back immediately. Simultaneously, though, Iris can’t help but wonder if Barry hopes to return to the status quo with her.</p><p><em>        Would he pretend they hadn’t just nearly kissed? </em>The trouble is, if he plans on not acknowledging the elephant in the room, Iris is unsure if she too can just pretend it didn’t happen. Still, she is aware that they are in public, and this is hardly the place to discuss almost kisses.</p><p>        “We knew they’d hit it off,” Barry says. “But I don’t think we realized just how well they’d hit it off, especially considering their topic of choice is patents.” </p><p>        “They’ve made patents flirty, which I think is a feat that we can’t take credit for. Or maybe we can, tangentially,” Iris teases. “But we definitely can take credit for the secret ingenuity of getting them to meet.”</p><p>        “You know, I think Linda might have been onto something about that match-making side hustle, after all.”</p><p>        Iris raises her eyebrows, jestingly,</p><p>        “Change of heart, already? Because I have this distinct memory of you saying that you thought match-making was a bad business to get into.”</p><p>        “Well, that was when Linda was suggesting it as a solo side hustle for you. But I think if you and I went into business together, this could be quite fun.”</p><p>        “Perhaps. But what would we call our match-making company?” </p><p>        “Hmmm, how about West-Allen Matchmakers, Incorporated? Has a nice ring to it, doesn’t it?”</p><p>        “If this were truly a thing, I would reluctantly acquiesce, only because you and I are kind of a dream team.”</p><p>        “You and I are <em>the</em> dream team,” Barry corrects, emphatically, and he’s smiling widely at her and refusing to break their gaze, and she thinks... she thinks he too must be feeling this intensity that has persistently lingered between them since their almost kiss, and she wonders for just a moment that <em>maybe, just maybe, he feels the same way.</em> Her hand comes to rest on the wedding band, just above the bodice of her cocktail dress, and his eyes track the movement, first tracking her neck, then her collarbones, and then the dip of her cleavage which disappears beneath her dress. She thinks she sees his tongue dart out momentarily over his lips, and she feels hot, suddenly, and she’s sure it has nothing to do with the warm, summer night. </p><p>        In the end, it’s Patty who interrupts, when she says,</p><p>        “You know, when I first saw the two of you, despite you saying, Iris, that that gift basket, which I presume was for Barry, was just for a friend, I could have sworn you two were together.” Barry and Iris are both startled by the reminder that they are not alone, and Iris recovers more quickly and replies with a smile,</p><p>        “We’ve been best friends for ages.”</p><p>        “I guess that explains it, then,” Patty observes, although she doesn’t sound entirely convinced.</p><p>        “Explains what?”</p><p>        “How the two of you are in your own world together. You didn’t notice, because you were so focused on each other just now, but it’s like it was just the two of you in this world and no one else exists.”</p><p>        “Oh, I’m so sorry. Sometimes we get so carried away in our conversations.”</p><p>        “Yeah,” Barry adds quickly. “You’ll have to forgive us. It’s easy to just get caught up…”</p><p>        “No, no, please don’t apologize,” Patty laughs, waving off their apologies. “It’s nice, is what I’m trying to say, but as usual, I’m having trouble putting it to words. You both clearly have such a deep connection, and it’s rare to see that. Rare, but nice.” Iris is unsure of how to respond to that, and it seems Barry is equally at a loss for words, but it doesn’t seem to faze Patty, as she continues on, “You know, it’s funny, because Eddie’s family and my family really want us to get married, and we’ve been friends for so, so long, and you know, I joke…,” and here Patty seems slightly less chipper, so Iris wonders if she actually is joking… “That maybe we should just bite the bullet and get hitched, but Eddie thinks it’s a terrible idea.”</p><p>        “I don’t know if it’s a terrible idea, but I do know that we don’t have feelings for each other,” Eddie responds gruffly, clearly taking offense to what Iris thinks is a rather innocuous conversation. “Our families do want us to get married, and it’s complicated, because we want to oblige our parents, so we often show up to things, like tomorrow’s gala, together for show.” Iris ponders Eddie’s bitter tone, observing that it never ends well when families try to pressure their children into romantic entanglements that are good for business and image. And while she cannot blame Eddie for his anger, she also notices Patty’s expression, and it’s wistfully sad, and Iris realizes then that while Eddie may not have any romantic inclinations towards Patty, Patty does towards him.</p><p>        So, evidently, she is not the only one dealing with romantic conundrums.</p><p>        “Barry, Iris, you both know Katie Rogers, right?” Eddie asks, abruptly changing course, and Iris is now completely perplexed, because how in the world did Eddie Thawne know Katie Rogers, who is an old school friend of both Barry and Iris’s, and why is he even asking about her in the first place? Iris had mostly lost touch with Katie after she’d left Central City to join the Gotham City Ballet as a principal ballerina, but Barry had mentioned a couple of weeks ago that he and Katie had recently reconnected.</p><p>        “We do. We used to go to school together,” Barry replies. “I actually tutor her cousin in chemistry, and we know her grandmother, Annette Rogers, quite well.”</p><p>        “Yes, Katie mentioned to me that she had met you again recently, Barry, at her grandmother’s. She was in town not long ago visiting her family.” Barry nods, but Iris notices Eddie appraising Barry carefully, which is yet another mystery she is itching to solve, because these two seem to really dislike each other, and their sheer distaste for one another makes no sense at all, really, given that they hardly know each other.</p><p>        “And how do you know Katie?” Iris inquires, immediately in reporter mode, for if she can’t deal with her feelings right now, she can surely get to the bottom of this rather puzzling interpersonal revelation.</p><p>        “Katie and I met when she danced for the Gotham City Ballet, before she left for the Metropolis Ballet Theater. I was attending the Swan Lake, and she was dancing as Odette and Odile, and I was enchanted, so I waited by her exit point… perks of knowing the theater owner, and I introduced myself. Now, we’re good friends. She actually now performs at the cabaret here.”</p><p>        “Excuse me?” Barry says, his brow furrowing, just as Iris seeks clarification by asking, </p><p>        “Katie dances at the club at your hotel?”</p><p>        Eddie shrugs nonchalantly in response, as if what he’d just proclaimed makes perfect sense, before replying,</p><p>        “Once in a while, when I beg her. She’s such an exquisite dancer, and we’re old friends, plus she lives in Metropolis now, so every now and then I ask her if she’ll perform at Trajectory.” Iris takes note of Eddie’s emotional tone when he claims that he has to beg Katie to dance at the club, which is so different from his usual mild-mannered disposition; indeed, there is just something about this whole situation that simply does not add up. Maybe it’s the sheer coincidence of it all (and this is the second massive coincidence, the first one being Patty showing up here after Iris’s chance meeting with her on the line at Jitters), but there is something rather unusual about Eddie and Katie’s acquaintanceship. “In fact,” Eddie continues, as Iris scrutinizes him carefully. “She’s dancing here tonight. That’s why I asked about her. In fact, she should be on any minute now.”</p><p>        “What?” Iris asks sharply, and she notices Barry’s whole demeanor shift from semi-relaxed to overtly alert beside her, but before she can press Eddie about this particular revelation, the lights on the terrace dim, and sultry musical instrumentals fill the speakers of the club. The dance floor lights up, and five dancers appear, performing a rather unexciting number, Iris notes, but despite the choreography, the dancers are still very talented. The principal performer is taller than the rest, and her hair is in a Dutch braid, unlike the high buns on the other dancers, and Iris recognizes her, for she is Katie Rogers. Given how dull the choreography is, Iris is surprised Katie had agreed to perform at Trajectory, because she is clearly quite an impressive dancer, and this cabaret performance seems to be an inadequate display of her skills. The dancers are soon joined by singers, whose styles range from operatic to pop, and the spectacle is most certainly haphazard, but enjoyable enough.</p><p>        At the end of the cabaret, Iris joins her fellow audience members in polite applause, although some people are emphatically cheering and whistling, and she wonders if they too are putting on a performance. Beside her, Barry seems guarded, his applause perfunctory, and he’s keeping an eye on Eddie instead of the performers, while Eddie is smiling widely at Katie, as the lights return to the rooftop terrace. As Iris’s eyes adjust to the new lighting, she notices that Katie is resolutely avoiding Eddie’s gaze (or perhaps she has not noticed him grinning like he just won the lottery, although that seems unlikely), and instead she’s focusing her attention elsewhere, just a few feet away from Eddie, and in Barry and Iris’s vicinity.</p><p>        “Barry!” Katie suddenly shrieks, and before Iris can turn questioningly to her best friend, Katie brushes past her, and flings herself into Barry’s arms, before he is even fully off of his feet. Already unbalanced, therefore, with the force of Katie against him, Barry topples backwards slightly, grabbing the edge of the table in an attempt to steady himself, while holding her with one arm. Not quite able to catch his balance, though, he nearly falls backwards onto Cisco, who steadies him with both hands.</p><p>        “Careful, man,” Cisco warns with a bemused grin, before glancing at Iris questioningly, but Iris simply shrugs, as she, herself, is equally confused. The night, it would seem, keeps getting progressively more bizarre.</p><p>        Though, Cynthia, for her part, is staring daggers at Katie.</p><p>        “Sorry,” Barry says, hastily, over his shoulder towards Cisco, before he turns his attention to Katie. “Katie, hi.”</p><p>        “Barry, it’s so good to see you,” Katie laughs, backing away slightly, her hands lingering on his chest. “I was told you were going to be here, and I had been meaning to call you, because we had had such a good time at dinner two weeks ago… thanks for that amazing dinner at Marano’s, by the way, I <em>definitely</em> needed that, but when I heard you’d be here, I thought what a funny coincidence.”</p><p>        “Yeah… great to see you too… your performance out there was great,” Barry replies, haltingly, still evidently reeling from Katie’s exuberant greeting, before nodding towards Iris, “Iris is here as well.” Katie swivels around and smiles tightly at Iris,</p><p>        “Hi, Iris. Gosh, it’s been how long? How are you?”</p><p>        “It has been a very long time. I’m doing well, Katie, how are you?” Iris responds, warmly, although her mind is working in overdrive, after having witnessed both Katie’s reaction to seeing Barry and the confession that they had had dinner at a fancy Italian restaurant two weeks ago.</p><p>
  <em>        It couldn’t possibly be, could it?</em>
</p><p>        “I’m great. Thank you for coming. Eddie mentioned that your father got married to his godmother, recently. And that Wally has a baby on the way. Time flies.” At the mention of his name, Eddie’s gaze darkens, and he’s regarding Katie almost angrily, at this point, but she still refuses to even look at him.</p><p>        <em>What the hell is going on here? </em></p><p>        On the one hand, Iris is sure that she does not want to know anything more than she absolutely has to about Katie Rogers or about Eddie Thawne, for that matter, but on the other hand, her investigative reporter instincts are getting the better of her. Or, as Barry frequently says when she gets excited about a potential story, her ‘Spidey’ senses are tingling.</p><p>        “Oh, I’m sorry, I don’t think I know the rest of the you. I’m Katie Rogers,” Katie carries on, oblivious to Eddie’s haughty gaze, and Cisco introduces himself, cordially, while Cynthia is curt and makes it a point not to shake Katie’s hand. Patty and Katie, who have met before, do not seem particularly friendly with one another, but they exchange perfunctory greetings nonetheless. Notably, Katie fails to acknowledge Eddie at all, which seems to confuse everyone, but nobody is willing to pry. “Anyways, Barry,” Katie continues, turning back to Barry. “It’s wonderful to see you. I really had a great time at dinner and was hoping we would see each other soon. There’s so much we have to catch up on, and hopefully I can wrangle one or maybe two or three more dinners out of you.”</p><p>        “Right,” Barry replies, and he is distinctly uncomfortable, but then Katie reaches up and cups his face, and the atmosphere amongst the group shifts rapidly. Barry immediately extricates himself from her grasp, removing her hands from his face and taking a step back, while somehow managing to make the whole act look polite, but Eddie is seething at this point, Patty looks utterly confused, and Cynthia appears to be about one step away from bringing litigious action against Katie Rogers. But Iris can barely concentrate on anyone else, for her heart is pounding in her chest. </p><p>
  <em>“Sometimes something incredible is right in front of you, and you just have to tell yourself it’s time to throw caution to the wind. A matchmaker can’t tell you that, only you can know that.”</em>
</p><p>        Because Iris remembers, clear as day, what Barry had said at her dad and Cecile’s wedding reception almost a week ago. And ever since, she has been forced to contend with the fact that Barry might potentially be in love with someone, just as she was simultaneously realizing the extent of how deeply in love she is with him. To receive confirmation that Barry’s heart is with another, though, is what she had been absolutely dreading, but nothing could prepare her for the reality of gut-wrenching heartbreak. It is as if her heart is made of glass that shatters all at once at the realization that Barry and Katie must have gone on a date (because Marano’s is surely not a place that friends who just met up again after many years go to for dinner), and Katie must have been the person Barry was thinking of on Saturday. The timeline makes sense.</p><p>        Barry’s reaction to seeing Katie is, however, confusing, for he seems very unenthused at the moment, but Iris is also aware that Barry is extremely polite and dislikes undue attention, so he merely could be uncomfortable by how exuberant Katie is around him, and furthermore, he likely wanted to tell Iris, himself. Barry would not have wanted her to find out he’s dating someone randomly by chance at a club, of that Iris is sure.</p><p>        The only piece of the puzzle that does not fit with the rest is the fact that Barry had been about to kiss her just a few hours ago. That seems so far removed from anything that Barry would ever do, when he is in love with someone else, especially because Iris knows how caring and respectful Barry is, but maybe she had misread the situation. After all, they had not actually kissed, as Cynthia had interrupted them, and perhaps, Barry was going to hug her instead. But at the same time, she could have sworn he was staring at her lips in the moments leading up to their near kiss.</p><p>        Iris closes her eyes, momentarily, attempting to find some equilibrium in order to carry on for the rest of the evening, but a wave of exhaustion washes over her, and she knows she has to leave. She cannot continue to dignify this ridiculous night with a plastered smile and false cordiality, but she also refuses to ruin Barry’s night or anyone else’s.</p><p>        “Iris? Iris?” a soft voice calls out, accompanied by two gentle hands on her bare arms, and Iris knows that voice as well as she knows her own, and of course Barry is already worrying about her, but she also cannot stand to see his concern. Nonetheless, this is a hurdle she must overcome, so she blinks open her eyes to meet his concerned gaze. “Are you alright?” From her periphery, she can see everyone else watching her as well, so she musters up her remaining strength and smiles,</p><p>        “Yeah, yeah, I’m fine. Look, guys, I’m sorry, I’m just feeling a bit tired, so I’m going to head back to my room, if that’s okay?” Eddie and Patty mention that they hope that she feels better, asking if she needs anything, a query that she politely waves off, while Cisco and Cynthia appear very worried, moving closer towards her, but it’s Barry who is going to be the most difficult to shake off, for he pointedly refuses to leave her side.</p><p>        “I’ll come with you,” he says, reaching for her hand, but she moves away from him slightly, and when she sees his confusion, she feels terrible, because the last thing she wants to do is give him the impression that she is mad at him, but truthfully she is as angry as she is heartbroken (because she <em>knows</em> they were having a moment earlier in her hotel room, no matter how much she tries to rationalize otherwise… he gifted her a wedding band, for god’s sake), and regardless, she needs space from him, because every time she looks at him, she is reminded of her shattered heart.</p><p>        “No, Bear, you should stay. Don’t leave on my account, besides don’t you want to catch up with Katie?” That last part comes out with more acidity than she intended, and Barry’s eyes widen,</p><p>        “Iris, no, you’ve—”</p><p>        “I’m sorry, Barry. Honestly, all the traveling today is probably just catching up with me. Anyways, I want to give Kamilla a call to make sure there are no new developments from Carver’s end, and I don’t want to be calling her too late, you know? I’ll be fine.”</p><p>        “Iris, please let me come with you. We need to talk,” Barry sounds desperate at this point, and Iris just cannot take it anymore, for she absolutely cannot stand the thought of listening to him tell her about why he didn’t mention the extent that he had reconnected with Katie before, and so she shakes her head firmly,</p><p>        “No, really, Barry…”</p><p>        “I’m coming with you,” Cynthia interjects, for she clearly has no remaining patience listening to this back and forth, and before Iris can protest, Cynthia steers her away from everyone else. When Iris glances over her shoulder, a few moments later, Barry and Cisco have already drifted away from the group, heads bowed closely, and appear to be engaging in a very serious discussion, judging by their solemn expressions.</p><p>        “Hey, Iris, wait up!” Eddie calls out, and Iris reluctantly turns around, forcing a polite smile on her face, when all she wants to do is scream that she would like to be left alone. “Sorry, I won’t keep you long, but I just wanted to say thank you for coming.”</p><p>        “Of course. Thank you for planning such a lovely night,” Iris lies, for she had had a, quite frankly, terrible night, but that was hardly Eddie’s fault, and he had gone to all this trouble to invite them for what he’d planned to be a nice outing. Before she can turn back, though, he wraps her in a quick, unexpected hug, which she awkwardly returns, patting his back uncertainly.</p><p>        “Really, Iris. I truly appreciate you attending,” he says, with a smile, and she nods, trying her best to maintain a façade of politeness,</p><p>        “Thank you for inviting me. All of us, for that matter.” They exchange goodbyes, and as Eddie heads back to the group, Iris sees Barry watching her, looking utterly forlorn and dejected and like his whole world has come crashing down around him, and she thinks… <em>god, why is he looking at me like that</em>… for surely he can see the heartbreak in her eyes, but then Cisco nudges him, forcefully, and shakes his head firmly when Barry turns to him.</p><p>        Cynthia then takes Iris’s hand in her own, before motioning towards the doorway back into the hotel, and Iris nods, and the two make their way out of the club together. In that moment, Iris thinks that the best decision she made was inviting Cynthia to Metropolis, because she cannot imagine surviving this nightmarish weekend without her.</p><p>*</p><p>        For a few blissful moments when Iris awakes the next morning, the debacle that was last night, culminating in the sort of agonizing heartbreak that she had previously believed only existed in romantic literature, is simply a hazy, improbable dream, but as soon as she becomes aware of where she is, namely in her hotel room at the Time Metropolis, the events of last night come crashing back, like wave after wave upon a shore. Iris groans, tugging a pillow over her face, her head pounding from the onslaught of emotions, and even though she had had one Martini last night, she now figures that having just one was a mistake, and she ought to have taken full advantage of the fact that she was at a club, given how the night turned out.</p><p>        She reaches for her phone and sees that the time is just after 6:30 AM, which means that she has a couple of hours before she has to decide whether she can make the trudge down to the dreaded breakfast hall. The thought of having to plaster a smile on her face, in order to curate a false sense of normalcy, and converse with people is utterly nauseating. Plus, she knows full well that Barry might be waiting anxiously to speak with her, and she just cannot face him, not when seeing him would surely reinforce both her heartbreak and anger tenfold. And yet, she also cannot shake how profoundly she loves him. Even just thinking about potentially seeing Barry at the breakfast hall, Iris is reminded of how deeply he is and always has been intertwined with her very soul; there are very few moments in her life that she can recall that do not involve Barry in some capacity. For in her most pivotal memories, Barry has always played a role, at least tangentially, and she realizes then that their relationship has been complicated for years, the two of them constantly hovering on the precipice of romantic love and walking, hand in hand, on a precarious tightrope between the safety of friendship and the unknown expanse of unexplored feelings.</p><p>        She recalls nights spent at bowling alleys, where they were playfully competitive, but still never failing to cheer loudly when the other got a strike or a spare. She remembers wiping remnants of ketchup from Barry’s lips, after he’d eaten more than three-quarters of the fries that they would order at Big Belly Burger, the local Central City burger joint, with her fingers. Then, there were those times when he was stressing over his application for the Wells Scholarship for Excellence in Science to fund his DSc, and she would bring over an inordinate amount of baked goods and cheesy films. He’d mumble, sleepily, after they’d worked through all of the sweets and watched at least three movies, about how absolutely amazing she is.</p><p>        One of her most telling memories is from her twenty-fifth birthday party, which had been an elaborate surprise that Barry had shockingly managed to pull off, even despite Linda’s usual tendency to tell Iris <em>literally </em>everything, surprise birthday parties notwithstanding. Barry had hosted the party in his old, one-bedroom apartment, and there were some thirty people who attended, but lack of square footage aside, he had managed somehow to get Bette Sans Souci, a former high school classmate of theirs, now celebrity chef extraordinaire, to cater for the party. Bette had allegedly told him, “<em>Only because it’s for Iris</em>,” when she’d agreed to cater the event, although Iris still suspects Barry is exaggerating a bit whenever he retells this story, but she appreciates the sentiment all the same. When Iris had arrived at Barry’s, fully expecting to enjoy a quiet night comprising of takeout and a movie, she had been genuinely shocked when she was instead greeted by thirty of her friends screaming, <em>“Happy Birthday!” </em>Barry had snapped a photo of her face, claiming that her look of sheer joy was beautifully priceless. Towards the end of the party, Iris had managed to steal a moment alone with Barry, when she’d found him standing by himself, gazing out of his kitchen window.</p><p>        <em>“What are you thinking about?” Iris asks, approaching him slowly. Barry smiles when he sees her, holding out his hand to her, which she takes. He interlaces their fingers.</em></p><p>
  <em>        “You,” he says, simply, as if it’s the most obvious answer in the world. “More specifically, I’m hoping that you had a good night, because nobody is more deserving of the world’s best party than you, Iris. Not that this is the world’s best party, because honestly, I mean, this small apartment? I think it’s too crammed for the number of people I invited, right? And I’m pretty sure the paint’s coming off the walls in a couple of these rooms, no… I know it is, but I’m glad Bette was able to cater, because that might be the saving grace here, and honestly I’m starting to think I should have hosted it somewhere else…”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>        “Barry,” Iris interrupts, placing a hand on his cheek. At the feel of her hand against his cheek, he immediately ceases talking and swallows very slowly. “This is the world’s best party. I’m the luckiest girl in the world to have a best friend who plans this for her. I couldn’t have asked for a better night, and the party is amazing, but it’s not the party that I’m lucky to have, Bear. It’s you.” He looks down at her for a moment, before surging forward, leaning his forehead gently against hers, and she gasps at the sudden movement, but quickly relaxes, savoring the intimacy of their embrace. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>        “Iris,” Barry whispers. “Do you even know how much I…,” he pauses, for a moment, measuring, perhaps, the magnitude of his words carefully, “…how much I care about you?”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>        “I think so,” she laughs softly, hoping to diffuse some of the tension that has built up between them. “I hope so.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>        “No…,” he sighs. “No, I don’t know if you do, and I don’t… god, it’s my fault, because if I had just… I don’t even know where to begin now.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>        “Hey,” Iris says soothingly, framing his face with her hands. “It’s okay. You don’t have to say anything, Bear.” He nods against her forehead, closing his eyes, and they stay like that for a few moments, before Wally races over, seemingly oblivious to Barry and Iris being wrapped up in their own world and apparently in need of Iris’s advice about asking Linda out on a second date.</em>
</p><p>        This memory is particularly painful for Iris, as she wonders what Barry was struggling to tell her that night by the window. She dares not hope that he was attempting to convey that his feelings for her were something more than just friendship, because hope is a most dangerous thing when it came to matters of the heart. If she was not so utterly sure that if she spoke to him now, Barry would simply inform her about whatever it was that was going on between him and Katie (albeit tactfully), Iris might have agreed to speak with him, for (against her better judgment) there was still an ember of hope that burned within her. But for the sake of protecting herself from further heartbreak and humiliation, she could not entertain any remaining hope that she may have, and thus she arrives at the only possible course of action: Avoid Barry Allen. That is really the only option here. Avoiding him during the day would not be particularly challenging, for she would just stay in her room and stealthily sneak out to meet her father and Cecile when they arrive later this morning, but it is the gala that could be cause for some serious trouble, because Barry would be there, and Iris could not possibly dodge him at every turn without it becoming extremely obvious. There is also the likelihood that she might very well lose her resolve completely the moment he looks at her again the way he had last night, like a lost, sad puppy.</p><p>        Her phone buzzes, and she glances over at the screen, where she is alerted to the fact that she has one unread message from Cynthia (and none from Barry, which disappoints Iris more than she expects, and the ember of hope dims considerably). The message from Cynthia reads:</p><p>
  <em>“You promised we’d chat this morning, so consider this your reminder. I know you’re going to hide out in your room, which is totally fair, but I’m coming over right now.”</em>
</p><p>        Iris is unsurprised by Cynthia’s adamancy, especially because she had indeed promised that they would have a long talk this morning. When Iris had returned to her room last night, she had managed to avoid having to admit to Cynthia that she was in love with Barry and that she was absolutely devastated by what she’d just learned, by citing exhaustion. Cynthia had reluctantly acquiesced, but only after Iris had promised her that they would talk tomorrow morning, and it would be typical of Cynthia to show up before 7AM.</p><p>        Sure enough, there is a knock at the door, and Iris opens it and sees her friend standing before the threshold.</p><p>        “Hey,” Iris says, tiredly.</p><p>        “Hey, you okay?” Cynthia asks, concerned, and Iris is not sure what comes over her in that moment, but perhaps it’s the realization that she is absolutely not okay that overwhelms her right then. And now, having to face the reality of finally vocalizing how she’s been feeling, while trying to protect the shattered remnants of her heart, the notion that she truly is not okay is the catalyst. She had not cried last night, but now tears spill over her cheeks, a sob escapes her, and soon she is weeping, her hands covering her face, and Cynthia murmurs, while closing the door behind her,</p><p>        “Oh, Iris.” And then Iris feels Cynthia’s arms come around her, holding her, soothing her, and finally, she allows herself to be comforted.</p><p>*</p><p>        “You know,” Cynthia remarks, while clasping a crystal encrusted barrette onto her hair, slightly left of her parting. “I can always sue Katie Rogers, Eddie Thawne, <em>and </em>Barry for NIED. Say the word, and I’ll do it.” They are currently readying themselves for the gala, which officially begins in one hour, and Cynthia is positively stunning in a floor length, backless forest green gown, adorned with a myriad of sequins.</p><p>        “And who would the plaintiff be, exactly?” Iris asks, still not dressed for the night yet, as she is trying to figure out what jewelry she is going to wear to accompany her red, floor length gown, a feat that was proving difficult, because she keeps eyeing the velvet box that contained the replica of her mother’s wedding band, which makes it nearly impossible to pick out a different necklace.</p><p>        “Honestly? Me. Because I found what happened last night to be extremely, negligently harmful no matter how forcefully Barry will likely argue that he was unwittingly involved. Thawne is getting sued, specifically for inviting us to that shit show, which, just by being present at, mind you, had a dire effect on my psychological state.”</p><p>        “We don’t even know what happened last night or what’s really going on, and even if we did know, your argument is a non-starter, especially because you typically find the vast majority of people that you meet to be annoying and claim that they are somehow guilty of NIED.”</p><p>        “True, but I can spin a legal argument from nothing,” Cynthia smirks, and Iris rolls her eyes, but chuckles nonetheless. She is unsure of how Cynthia manages to come up with the most ridiculous and unsubstantiated legal arguments when not in a courtroom, but then again, she supposes that as a top litigator, Cynthia’s occasional legal theatrics are most definitely forgivable.</p><p>        But then, Cynthia says, “I got you to smile and <em>that</em> was the ultimate goal.” Iris looks up at Cynthia, who has a soft smile on her face, and she smiles back, once again reflecting on how very glad she is that her friend is here with her. She knows Cynthia wants to properly converse about what happened last night, but she isn’t rushing Iris into the conversation, despite the fact that they did spend the entire day together and still had not really talked about last night.</p><p>        To be sure, they had not spoken much about anything, though, because they frankly had not had the chance to. Cynthia had stayed with Iris that morning, first comforting her, as she had cried for a good half hour, and subsequently they had ordered room service and flipped through the channels available via the hotel’s cable service for a couple of hours, until Iris’s father called her to inform her that he and Cecile were roughly fifteen minutes away from the Time Metropolis. As Iris had gotten ready to meet her family outside the hotel, Cynthia had offered to join Iris, a request for which Iris had been eternally grateful, because she knew her dad would notice immediately that she was not herself, and so she could use the additional moral support. Upon meeting her father and Cecile, Joe had indeed commented that Iris appeared very tired, and she had shrugged it off, citing the cabaret the previous night as the obvious reason for her exhaustion, but Joe hadn’t been convinced.</p><p>        “No, you look like somebody crushed your world,” he had commented, concern evident in his voice. She had laughed at that, because it sounded so dramatically absurd, and yet it was also truer than her father even realized.</p><p>        “Dad, come on. I’m fine,” she had replied, quickly ushering her father and Cecile into the hotel lobby, as a couple of staff members took their luggage. Hoping to sway her father away from his suspicions, she had asked, “How was your flight?” Joe did not answer, instead watching her closely, but Cecile started chatting about their journey, which was a most welcome distraction for Iris. At the time, she knew her father was not going to let up so easily, for the mere fact that she was trying her hardest to appear nonchalant was enough to cause him concern, but he was unlikely to press the issue right at that moment.</p><p>        Now, Iris knows that the longer that she stalls, the more likely it becomes that she will have to confront her heartbreak in her father’s presence, so she gathers her gown and makeup and heads to the bathroom to get ready, for there is only one mirror in the room, which Cynthia is currently utilizing. After laying her gown out on the edge of the marble counter, Iris stares at herself in the mirror and takes a few deep breaths<em>. I can get through this. I need to get through this.</em> Barry had not called her the entire day, nor had he messaged her, and in a way, this made Mission Avoid Barry Allen considerably easier, but she cannot help but feel a pang of sadness, because if Barry was not making the effort to speak with her now, then her original understanding of what had been revealed last night must be accurate. The shattering pain of heartbreak only worsens at this realization, but she refuses to allow this to dictate her night.</p><p>        Instead, she busies herself by getting ready, first applying her makeup and then turning to her outfit for the night. Her red gown is a sight to behold, and she is aware of this, as she puts it on; the bodice hugs her figure like a glove, while the skirt tumbles elegantly over her legs and down to her feet. When she glances back up at the mirror to put on her dangling earrings, she makes a decision: as difficult as this night would most certainly be, she is going to make the most of it and ensure that her father and Cecile have a memorable soirée.</p><p>        As she contemplates this, she hears a knock at the hotel room door outside, and subsequently, the door opening.</p><p>        “Hi, Joe.” She hears Cynthia greet her father, and Iris is aware that her father has decided to come by, no doubt, to speak with her.</p><p>
  <em>        So much for making it through the night. </em>
</p><p>        “Hi Cynthia, I just wanted to stop by and see if Iris is around to speak for a few minutes,” Joe replies.</p><p>        “Of course. Iris, your dad’s here!”</p><p>        Iris can hear some shuffling around, before Cynthia announces,</p><p>        “Got my shoes. I’ll give you some time to speak with Iris privately. Anyways, I told Cisco that I would meet up with him before the party starts.”</p><p>        “Thank you. I will see you at the gala.” Iris hears the door close, and she presumes that Cynthia has left. Upon hearing that Cisco and Cynthia are meeting up early, Iris smiles. At least they seem to be enjoying each other’s company very much, so perhaps there is a silver lining to this weekend, after all.</p><p>        But, Iris is also acutely aware that her father is waiting for her and that she cannot put off this conversation any longer, so she looks into the mirror one last time, releasing a final deep breath, before exiting the bathroom. Upon her reentrance into the main area of the hotel room, her father looks up and smiles. “There you are,” he says. “You look beautiful, baby girl.”</p><p>        “Thanks dad,” Iris replies, returning his smile, just as Joe walks over and envelopes her in a hug.</p><p>        “What’s going on, Iris? And don’t say nothing,” he interrupts, just as she opens her mouth to protest. “I know there’s something wrong. I knew it from the moment I saw you this morning, but I wasn’t going to press you then. But clearly something happened this weekend.”</p><p>        “Dad, please. It’s not a big deal. I’m just stressed from work and Carver suing the Citizen, and I don’t know… I guess the exhaustion from the last few weeks has caught up with me finally.” To be fair, that is not wholly untruthful. She is feeling the aftereffects of stress from the amount of work that had gone into the exposé.</p><p>        “Iris, if I thought that was all this is about, I wouldn’t ask. I know you can handle pretty much anything, but this is different. And I know you’re grown and can deal with whatever it is going on, but I don’t want you to pretend you’re fine, because that solves nothing.”</p><p>        “Yeah,” Iris murmurs, closing her eyes momentarily, and when she opens them, her father is regarding her earnestly. Taking a deep breath, she continues, “You’re right, it’s just… it’s Barry.” Joe’s lips quirk up slightly, a ghost of a smile touching his lips. “I don’t know, dad. Barry and I have been fine, you know. I mean, we’re always fine. Until I… I’m not even sure how it happened, because one minute we’re friends. As we always have been. Seeing each other almost every day and catching up. And I don’t know when I realized it, but I… I love him, dad.” Her voice breaks slightly on <em>love</em>, for it is such an overwhelming feeling, being able to vocalize that she’s in love with Barry. She immediately feels her dad’s arm come around her shoulders as he hugs her to him.</p><p>        “This might come as a surprise to you, but I’ve known you’ve been in love with that boy for many years,” Joe says, and Iris looks up at her dad, startled. <em>Had her feelings been that obvious that her father knew she loved Barry before even she had realized it?</em></p><p>        “How…”</p><p>        “I know you, Iris. You’re so kind and so good, and you’re always trying to help everyone. But when you and Barry first met as children in the playground, and you ran over and reached out a hand to help him up when he tumbled off the swing and into the dirt, there was this different energy between the both of you, and it only became stronger over the years. You don’t know the way you look at him, but I see it. You probably don’t realize the way he looks at you either. But I know Barry too; he grew up just two doors down, and he looks at you like you are the sun, and he has since the moment he first saw you.” At that, Iris is further surprised and confused, shaking her head,</p><p>        “Dad, no, that’s impossible. Barry isn’t in love with me; he’s in love with someone else.”</p><p>        “And you know that how?” Joe asks, raising his eyebrows, completely and utterly unconvinced at the implication that Barry Allen is in love with someone other than Iris West.</p><p>        “Because it all came out last night. It’s not… it doesn’t matter.”</p><p>        “Did Barry tell you he was in love with someone else?”</p><p>        “Well, he didn’t say it in so many words,” Iris begins, just as Joe asks,</p><p>        “Did he say it any words at all?” This gives Iris pause, for Barry had not said specifically that he was dating Katie, for that matter, but surely that was what he had been attempting to explain to her, before she had left. Katie revealed that they had gone out to dinner at a fancy Italian restaurant, and it is not as if Barry disputed the fact, although he had been distinctly put off by her exuberance. But that might have simply indicated that he was uncomfortable by the level of scrutiny directed his way, thanks to Katie’s apparent inability to keep anything private. And yet, Iris can’t get that look he had given her, like his world had just been completely shattered, as she was leaving the club, out of her head.</p><p>        Because if she is being wholly honest with herself, Iris knows that part of the impetus behind Mission Avoid Barry Allen is the fear that in whatever conversation she has with Barry, she would have no choice but to tell him the truth, and their equilibrium will be completely altered forever.</p><p>        “No,” she finally replies. “I left before he could say anything. And honestly, dad, part of the reason why I ran away before speaking with him is just that… I guess, our friendship has been a safe harbor. We’ve always sought solace in one another, but the moment I tell him, everything changes, and I risk losing that safe harbor.”</p><p>        “It seems,” Joe says with a knowing smile. “The two of you have a lot to talk about.” Iris nods, silently, as her father continues, “Iris, the most important thing you can do is be honest with yourself and with him. Sometimes, change is inevitable, and it is often a good thing, because you may not necessarily be risking anything. Talk to him and see what happens.”</p><p>        “Yeah, I suppose that I can’t keep avoiding the inevitable,” Iris replies, before smiling gratefully at her father. “Thanks, dad.”</p><p>        “Anytime, baby girl. Remember, I am so, so proud of you. Of the woman you have grown to be and of all that you have accomplished. And I always will be.” A wave of emotion washes over Iris, and she looks up at her father, who appears equally emotional.</p><p>        “I love you, dad,” she says.</p><p>        “I love you too, Iris.” Joe then mentions that they can head down to the gala whenever Iris is comfortable, but as grateful as she is for her dad’s concern and support, she knows they ought to not keep Cecile waiting, so she tells him she’ll meet them by the elevator.</p><p>        “Are you sure?” Joe queries, but Iris is certain in her convictions now, which is a most welcome change from the lack of clarity she had been grappling with all weekend.</p><p>        “Absolutely, dad. I’m okay. I’ll be right out.” Her father nods, kissing the side of her head, before exiting her hotel room. Now, there is just one thing left to do; she walks over to the small bedside table and picks up the velvet box containing the replica of her mother’s wedding band. Upon opening the box, she carefully removes the necklace, unclasps the hook, and puts it on.</p><p>        Now, come what may, she is ready to face the world.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Part 3</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>When she turns back, she sees that he has seen her, as have Cisco and Cynthia. Cynthia appears jovial, leaving the table to come greet them, followed by Cisco, just as other guests begin noticing the new arrivals and start walking over to congratulate Joe and Cecile.</p><p>        But Iris cannot tear her gaze away from Barry.</p><p>        Because he’s regarding her like he never has before, as if the wind has been knocked out of him, as if he’s been rendered utterly speechless by her mere presence, gazing at her utterly wide-eyed, and the sheer intensity of the number of emotions his look conveys is too much for Iris, so she looks down at the floor, breathing deeply.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Thank you very much for reading this story, and I truly hope you enjoy this final chapter, which is largely comprised of Westallen goodness!</p><p>And a very special thank you to Caroline (ginandweas/barryallenis on tumblr) for beta-ing all three chapters of this fic.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>        The mezzanine just above the ballroom of the Time Metropolis is a well-furnished, carpeted landing with at least seven chandeliers hanging from the ceiling and a wide, glass balcony, supposedly for onlookers to look upon the dancing masses below. There are refreshment stalls, serving a variety of beverages, and waiters carrying platters of an assortment of appetizers, including chili lime shrimp cups, fried okra, and goat cheese bites.</p><p>        When the elevator arrives at the floor of the mezzanine, Iris steps out, alongside her father and Cecile, and sees that most people are milling around, chatting with one another. It would seem that no one has yet headed down the stairs to the ballroom, which holds the promise of a night of dancing. Furthermore, nobody seems to have noticed Joe, Cecile, and Iris’s arrival yet, as they are several feet away from everyone, which comes as somewhat of a relief for Iris, as she scans the room quickly, her eyes searching for one person only. Sure enough, she finds him, seated at a table, head pressed into his palm, a glass of wine before him, and wearing a distinctly melancholy expression. He is seated beside Cisco and Cynthia, who are conversing with one another, but looking over at him every few seconds, worryingly.</p><p>        Iris swallows, twisting her fingers behind her back, as she feels her sadness and anger dissipate, upon seeing how utterly torn up he looks, and she knows she must speak with him. She feels a hand on her shoulder and looks up to see her father giving her a reassuring smile, which she returns.</p><p>        When she turns back, she sees that he has seen her, as have Cisco and Cynthia. Cynthia appears jovial, leaving the table to come greet them, followed by Cisco, just as other guests begin noticing the new arrivals and start walking over to congratulate Joe and Cecile.</p><p>        But Iris cannot tear her gaze away from Barry.</p><p>        Because he’s regarding her like he never has before, as if the wind has been knocked out of him, as if he’s been rendered utterly speechless by her mere presence, gazing at her utterly wide-eyed, and the sheer intensity of the number of emotions his look conveys is too much for Iris, so she looks down at the floor, breathing deeply.</p><p>        “Hi, Iris,” someone says, and Iris glances to her left and smiles politely when she sees Patty approaching towards her. She appears to be alone, which strikes Iris as odd, but perhaps what is even stranger, now that she thinks about it, is that Eddie is nowhere to be found.</p><p>        “Hey, Patty,” Iris replies. “How are you?”</p><p>        “I’m alright. Are you doing okay?”</p><p>        “Yeah, I’m fine, thank you. I think I just needed to get some rest. Between traveling and then going out last night, I think I was just over tired.”</p><p>        “Yeah, of course. I’m glad you’re feeling better now.” An awkward silence descends upon them, and Iris is unsure how to progress the conversation, but she can sense that Patty wants to say something further.</p><p>        “Are you here by yourself?” Iris queries, intuitively determining that perhaps Patty’s odd behavior might have to do with Eddie’s conspicuous absence.</p><p>        “You noticed, huh,” Patty bites out sardonically. “I’m supposed to be here with Eddie. In fact, Eddie is literally supposed to be here, because he’s hosting the night. But I waited for him for like thirty minutes in the lobby, and he never showed up, so I came here, thinking perhaps he’d forgotten to meet me— wouldn’t be the first time he’s done that —but he’s not here either. I’ve been calling him and texting him, but he’s being absolutely unresponsive.”</p><p>        “You’re not worried, are you? Because I’m sure he’ll turn up. As you said, he is hosting this.”</p><p>        “Oh, I’m not worried,” Patty says. “I asked at the concierge if they’d seen him, and they said he had stepped out earlier today. And that Katie was with him.” Iris’s eyebrows raise, as she takes in this information. For she now realizes that Katie is also not present, and after she and Eddie had acted so bizarrely around each other yesterday, it is not particularly surprising that there is more to that story.</p><p>        “So, they’re likely not coming here tonight,” Iris concludes, and Patty shrugs,</p><p>        “So much for being a great host. Anyways, how am I supposed to tell Cecile that her godson might not be attending the gala he’s throwing in her and her husband’s honor?”</p><p>        “Just tell her the truth, but don’t make it seem like Eddie abandoned her. I mean, we honestly don’t know where he is or why he is so delayed, but he could still make an appearance later tonight, after all.”</p><p>        “Yeah, you’re right. Thanks, Iris.” Iris nods, smiling reassuringly, as Patty heads over to Cecile who is standing a few feet away, chatting with one of the other guests. For a few moments, Iris is alone, as she mulls over Eddie and Katie’s absence, wondering what was so urgent that they had to leave right before Eddie was meant to begin hosting this gala for Joe and Cecile. Apart from his apparent inability to be a good host, it just seems so sudden, especially since Katie had been clearly trying to goad Eddie last night, by paying him no attention, and he had taken the bait with all his fuming and glowering.</p><p>        A proffered glass of champagne enters her line of vision, and when Iris looks up, she sees Barry, handsome as ever in his tuxedo, holding the glass in front of her. His eyes are warm, conveying an abundance of emotions, and he’s smiling at her softly.</p><p>        “Hi,” he says, almost a whisper.</p><p>        “Hi,” she breathes, her voice also very quiet. They’re both gazing at each other, neither saying a word, before Barry lets out a small laugh, remembering himself.</p><p>        “You look incredible,” he murmurs, as if in absolute awe, and the way he says it, with such reverence, makes her heart soar.</p><p>        “Thank you, Barry. You look very handsome.”</p><p>        He blushes, ducking his head, slightly, before continuing, “Uh, this is… this is for you. I wanted to save a glass for you, because it’s elderflower and… you know, I realize now that there’s a bar, which I’m sure is probably stocked, now that I think about it… yeah, I’m sure it is, but at the time, I thought they might run out of glasses of champagne, because it didn’t seem like they had too many left being passed around. But I definitely wasn’t thinking about the bar. So, well, this is… for you, if you want it, of course. Do you want it? Because I can take it back and then…”</p><p>        “Yes, I want it,” Iris chuckles, interrupting his rambling, which she finds utterly endearing, as Barry nervously runs a hand through his hair. “Thank you, Barry. I do love elderflower champagne.”</p><p>        “Yeah, I know,” he answers softly. There’s something in his voice at that moment… an emotion that Iris cannot quite pinpoint, but it nonetheless ignites an intense warmth within her, and when she glances up at him, he’s regarding her almost sadly, like he wants so very much to tell her something, but he is unable to. She wants to tell him that it’s okay, that he can tell her anything and everything that he wants, but before she can, he whispers, “You’re wearing the necklace.” Her hand comes up to touch the wedding band, and she nods, smiling,</p><p>        “Of course, I am. My best friend gave it to me.” He breathes out harshly, taking a step closer towards her, reaching his hand towards hers, almost as if by instinct.</p><p>        “Iris, I need—,” he begins, but he is cut off by Cisco and Cynthia racing up to the both of them, having just congratulated Joe and Cecile and chattering about Eddie Thawne’s absence, of all things. Iris has half a mind to stare them both down for interrupting her moment with Barry, but decides against it, because she knows they didn’t exactly mean to tumble in on a private moment. Barry, on the other hand, does not seem to agree with this sentiment, for he is shooting Cisco a dark look, although Cisco, thankfully, seems oblivious.</p><p>        “Can you believe Eddie isn’t even here?” Cisco asks immediately, shaking his head in apparent disbelief.</p><p>        “I’m actually very surprised by him not turning up on time,” Cynthia replies. “I cannot imagine Eddie Thawne missing a gala that he, himself, is hosting. This is completely and utterly his element.”</p><p>        “Katie isn’t here either. Apparently, she and Eddie went off somewhere earlier today and didn’t return. Patty told me,” Iris says, and Barry’s brow furrows at that, before he adds,</p><p>        “I knew something was off between those two yesterday. It would maybe explain why the vibe was just completely off last night, like something just wasn’t adding up.” Iris catches Barry’s eye at that moment, and she feels her pulse race, upon the realization that Barry is apparently as completely befuddled and equally bemused about what was going on with Katie and Eddie as they all are. <em>And that could only mean one thing, right? </em></p><p>        “I think that much was obvious to all of us,” Cynthia replies, rolling her eyes. “Those two are a pair of <em>absolute</em> paragons of etiquette and normalcy when they’re around each other, aren’t they?” Everyone laughs at that, likely recalling the rather odd behavior both Katie and Eddie engaged in the previous night, which strengthens Iris’s resolve that perhaps she had been completely mistaken about what she had witnessed between Barry and Katie, although that betraying voice reminds her of the dinner at Marano’s, much to her chagrin. She is aware, though, that that is a question that needed answering. Eventually. Because at the moment she is certain that she wants to find that equilibrium again with Barry, before diving headlong into conversations that would likely change everything.  </p><p>        Quiet orchestral music begins to play, and a man steps up onto the mezzanine, gesturing with his hands towards Joe, Cecile, and the rest of the guests,</p><p>        “I am the manager of the Time Metropolis. Mr. Thawne is unfortunately detained tonight, although he hopes to make an appearance later on. He asks that we host this night in his absence, and so if I could invite the guests of honor, Mr. West and Ms. Horton, and everyone else to please head to the ballroom, then we can officially commence the festivities.”</p><p>        “Thank you,” Joe says, holding out his hand to Cecile. After she takes his hand, and the two of them begin to head down the double staircase to the rather ornate ballroom, apparently modeled after some Baroque-style palace, the rest of the guests follow. Iris can feel Barry’s eyes on her as they walk down the stairs, even though she is a few feet in front of him, and a feeling of great anticipation washes over her, as she ponders how the night might unfold.</p><p>        As they reach the bottom of the staircase, Cynthia stumbles on the second to last step, and Iris lurches forward to steady her friend, but in doing so, she too loses her footing, momentarily, and she thinks they might both end up tumbling down together, but just as she catches Cynthia’s arm, a hand comes around her waist, another on the small of her back, preventing her from falling. Indeed, Cynthia is able to catch her balance, with Iris steadying her then, and she smiles gratefully up at Iris.</p><p>        “Thanks,” she says, and Iris nods with a smile,</p><p>        “Of course.” But her concentration is on the two hands holding her, for they’re Barry’s hands, and she is extremely aware of his touch against her bare back, his fingers gripping her gently, but firmly. She turns to look at him, just as he asks,</p><p>        “You okay?”</p><p>        “Yeah, I’m fine. Thanks, Bear. You saved both of us from tumbling down stairs in our gowns,” she replies, chuckling slightly, as Cynthia smirks, watching both of them closely,</p><p>        “Yes, of course Barry did.” Noticing Cynthia’s knowing look, Barry and Iris smile sheepishly, seemingly embarrassed, but Barry does not step away from Iris, still holding her, the imprint of his hands hot against her.</p><p>        The live orchestra is situated near the end of the large ballroom, and the conductor raises her baton, signaling that the musicians are about to begin performing a piece. Cynthia quickly says,</p><p>        “I’m going to go see if Cisco wants to dance. Bye,” before she walks away towards Cisco, who is already near the center of the room. Iris shakes her head fondly, before Barry asks,</p><p>        “Do you… would you like to dance, Iris?” His tone is soft and full of longing, and Iris recognizes the gravity of this moment.</p><p>        “I would love to,” she replies, her face shining with a number of emotions, and she is uninterested in attempting to mask everything that she is feeling. She wants Barry to know. He smiles, releasing his grasp around her waist and back, and holding out his hand to her, which she takes in her own. As his fingers enclose around hers, she shivers for a moment, not of any cold air, but rather because of the intensity with which she knows that she loves him.</p><p>        They make their way slowly into the ballroom, where the orchestra is playing a sultry musical piece, and Barry’s left arm comes around Iris, his hand settling at her waist, while he holds her left hand in his right. Her free arm goes around his neck and for a few moments they simply sway in each other’s arms, gazing at each other. Barry leads her around the other couples, but Iris barely realizes that they are in a ballroom full of other people, for she feels, within his arms, as if they are the only two people in the world. His eyes do not leave hers for even a moment, and it is hard not to mistake what he’s feeling in that moment, for his emotions are visibly ablaze upon his face. She wonders then how she possibly could have misread one night, when there had been so many signs telling her that he feels in their most intense moments all that she feels, but she supposes that the tricky thing about loving her best friend was the debilitating fear that he may not feel the same way. The fear that if she voices her feelings, she could lose the safe harbor of their friendship forever. <em>But change is sometimes not only good, but imperative</em>. And perhaps that is the most integral part of what they share; their need to trust each other in order to fully realize that their friendship was perhaps never simply platonic ever.</p><p>        Iris moves closer to Barry in his arms, as they continue to dance, laying her head against his chest, feeling the comforting rhythm of his heartbeat against her ear. She closes her eyes, savoring his touch, while Barry’s arm tightens around her, his lips brushing against the crown of her head in a soft kiss. The music crescendos as they dance, coming to a natural end, and applause from the other couples erupt around them, but Barry and Iris, break apart only slightly, both of his hands now holding her waist, while his forehead comes to rest against her own. Iris’s hands slide up his chest, resting just below his bowtie, and they both breathe deeply, trying to mentally navigate what they are supposed to do next. It is apparent to Iris now that they cannot possibly put off the inevitable any further.</p><p>        “We should talk,” she says, brushing her nose against his.</p><p>        “Yeah, yeah,” he replies, dazed. She smiles, feeling his breath fanning against her lips, and realizes then just how physically proximate they are to one another.</p><p>        “Privately, Bear,” she urges softly. He nods, seemingly coming back to his senses and registering that they are currently in a room full of other people. They move apart, slowly, his hands caressing her waist as he backs away, and Iris immediately misses the warmth of his arms around her.</p><p>        “Right. I’m sure we can find somewhere private away from all of this. It’s a hotel after all.”</p><p>        “Shouldn’t be too hard,” she replies, raising her eyebrows. He grins lopsidedly at her, and without another word, he takes her hand and leads her out of the ballroom, and she wonders if anyone has noticed them, but finds herself not particularly caring if everyone is indeed watching their abrupt exit. Once they climb up the stairs and reach the mezzanine again, nodding politely towards a few members of the hotel staff milling about there, Barry looks around searchingly, and Iris is aware that he is trying to determine where they ought to go. She squeezes his hand, before saying, “Let’s just go to my room. Otherwise we’re going to be running around this whole hotel searching for a quiet place.” Barry lets out a breathy chuckle,</p><p>        “Yeah, good idea, otherwise we’d be something like a pair of high school teenagers at prom, running around the venue for somewhere private.”</p><p>        “We did miss out on prom, though. Together, I mean,” she replies wistfully. Perhaps there’s something distinctly poignant about her tone, because Barry pulls Iris closer to him, his hand settling gently at the base of her neck, and he’s regarding her, adoringly.</p><p>        “But we did get our dance, even if it is thirteen years later.” She smiles, her eyes glistening with unshed tears,</p><p>        “Yes, we did.” At that Barry drops his hand to hold hers once more, and he presses the call button for the elevator, and as they await the lift, all Iris can feel is both deep contentment and  love.</p><p>*</p><p>        When Iris enters her hotel room with Barry, it is with an internal sigh of relief, for the short journey from the mezzanine to the third floor of the Time Metropolis felt torturous, as they both were jittery with anticipation, but unable to truly voice anything until they were within the safety of a private room. Upon entering the room, Barry immediately begins pacing, while Iris busies herself by pouring them both glasses of water from a jug situated on the bedside table. She proffers one to Barry, and he stops fidgeting for a moment to take it.</p><p>        “Thank you,” he says, gratefully, and they both sip from their glasses. Iris figures that she ought to convince Barry not to resume walking around the room, so she sits down on the edge of the bed and kicks off her heels. “You make it look so graceful,” he sighs, coming to sit next to her, clutching his glass tightly.</p><p>        “What do you mean?” she asks, and he turns, so that he’s facing her fully. Iris carefully places her hand over his, loosening his hold on his glass, hoping to help alleviate some of his nervous energy.</p><p>        “Everything you do. It’s so graceful. So beautiful. I just…”</p><p>        “Bear,” Iris starts, but Barry shakes his head quickly,</p><p>        “You don’t have to say anything, Iris. I know that I messed up yesterday, but the truth is I’ve been messing things up for years now.”</p><p>        “No, Barry, you haven’t,” Iris counters, while Barry puts his glass down on the floor beside his feet. Determining that they have now arrived at the point where all their cards are about to be laid out before them, Iris does the same with her own glass. When she places her now empty hands back onto her lap, one of Barry’s hands encloses over one of hers, gently prying her fingers open, so that her right palm is facing upwards, resting on her knee, before he interlocks her fingers with his. He brings their joined hands to his lips and kisses her knuckles, slowly, reverently. “Bear…” she whispers, but she is unsure what to say, recognizing that they are on a precipice of change.</p><p>        “I owe you an explanation. I owe you so much more than that, but perhaps I can start with an explanation. But first, I am so sorry, Iris. About last night. I didn’t… I obviously was taken aback when I saw Katie again, and her over-friendliness was a source of confusion for me, but I guess I didn’t have the wherewithal to deal with everything she was saying, but I shouldn’t have even let her say anything. And if I’d been unable to stop her, I should have shut down all of the absurd insinuations she was clearly trying to make. I was put on the spot, not that that’s an excuse, but when I saw you… when I saw your face, I knew I’d screwed up really badly. Because to see you look so upset and to know that I was the reason for it, I don’t… god, Iris, it felt like a knife to my chest, and all I could think about was how much of an absolute idiot I am,” Barry begins, speaking rapidly, voice trailing off at the end, and he’s looking at her so earnestly, as if the worst thing in the world to him is being the cause of even an ounce of her sadness, and goodness she just wants to take his face in her hands and tell him that he is her happiness. But she stops herself, because she knows they have to get through this conversation.</p><p>        “Bear, I’m not upset or angry with you now. But I was, especially right after Katie said what she said, when we had had that moment in my room just hours before, when you came to give me this.” And here she picks up the wedding band sitting between her collarbones to emphasize her point. “It just felt like everything we had shared had been rendered insignificant in that moment. Like it was nothing. And then I thought I had maybe read the moment wrong, but whenever I go over what happened in my head, I know that you were feeling what I was in that moment.”</p><p>        “You weren’t reading that moment wrong, Iris. Not for a second,” Barry says, using his free hand to cup her cheek. She leans into his touch, closing her eyes for just a moment. “We almost kissed in your room, and I… there is nothing more that I wanted to do than kiss you. And then Cynthia interrupted, which wasn’t her fault, obviously, but I’m not going to pretend I wasn’t extremely frustrated, especially because we seem to have been interrupted throughout our lives a countless number of times.” He chuckles ruefully then, but Iris’s breath hitches, as she mulls over his words, particularly, <em>there is nothing more that I wanted to do than kiss you</em>. If only she could ask him then how he truly feels about her. If only she could tell him how she truly feels about him.</p><p>        “But what about the dinner at Marano’s?” she queries, instead, for that betraying voice in her head refuses to let her move past that. Surely, Katie did not completely make that up, for even if she was simply saying all that she did to get a rise out of Eddie, telling complete falsities seemed a step too far. And there is the added anxiety that Barry had not corrected her then.</p><p>        “Yeah, yeah, that was… Katie completely mischaracterized that dinner. I know it was dinner at Marano’s, but what she failed to mention is that Matt, who’s her cousin, as you know, was there as well, and the whole thing came about, because Katie showed up when I was tutoring Matt, and Old Mrs. Rogers was adamant that we all go out to dinner. But she was feeling unwell, and nonetheless insisted that we go, and it was impossible to say no, especially because Matt really wanted to go. I’m… I should have set the record straight last night, because I knew what Katie was trying to imply, and she was completely wrong on that account,” Barry replies, all in one breath, and he looks so pained that he’d let this fester, without correcting Katie’s white lie immediately, but Iris lets out a soft laugh, then,</p><p>        “If you could have seen the scenarios I’d somehow managed to cook up in my head... Looking back, I realize they were probably irrational, and I should have just asked you, myself, but I was devastated and angry, and I think I just needed time to myself at that moment.”</p><p>        “Iris, I am so, so sorry. Just the thought that you’d been in any kind of pain, because of me… god, I’m such an idiot,” he says, his fists clenched on his lap, and his tense form causes Iris worry. She frames his face with her hands, caressing his cheek with her thumb, hoping to soothe him. She leans in to rest her forehead against his, and for a few moments, all Iris can hear is their breathing, as she feels some of the tension in Barry’s muscles dissipate.</p><p>        “It’s okay, Barry. This is not your fault. We just both stumbled into a series of romantic mishaps, because of someone else’s lies. But we’re here now,” Iris soothes. Barry grins at that, fully relaxing then.</p><p>        “Romantic mishaps, huh?” he teases gently. She moves away from him just slightly to look at him properly, chuckling,</p><p>        “Would you characterize it otherwise?”</p><p>        “Not at all. Especially because Cisco said that you and I have been constantly tumbling into romantic mishaps throughout our entire adult lives. I was so mad at him, both last night and today, because he kept saying that I couldn’t call you or text you… and you should have seen me today. I was oscillating between walking around like a zombie and ranting at Cisco about how he could put me through this. He wouldn’t budge, though, repeatedly telling me that I needed to give you a day’s worth of space and that I’d see you at the gala. And I was going out of my mind the entire day. But now,” he says, bringing his hands to her waist, slowly, tentatively. “I think maybe he was right.” Iris silently agrees, because despite her initial frustrations over Barry having not reached out to her today, Cisco was probably right in refusing to allow him to call or text her. They both clearly needed the day to work through their emotions by themselves.</p><p>        “Well, Cisco is quite wise,” she remarks in response.</p><p>        “Drove me insane today, but yeah, he has his moments,” Barry jokes, and Iris laughs. “God, I love your laugh.” Iris raises an eyebrow at that, as she simultaneously runs her fingers through his hair. He closes his eyes for a moment, as if relishing her touch.</p><p>        “You love my laugh?” she asks in jest, but his expression becomes solemn, and he pulls her closer to him, his hands remaining on her waist.</p><p>        “Always have. I remember,” he begins, slowly, carefully. “…When we first met. My mom had brought me to the playground when I was ten, and I’m pretty sure I was upset about the new move to Central City, so she probably took me there, so that I could blow off some steam. And I’d somehow managed to swing myself so aggressively that I’d tumbled headfirst into the dirt. I was so angry and annoyed, and I’m pretty sure about to start crying, but then there was this small hand…” At this, one of his hands release her waist, and he grasps her hand, intertwining their fingers. “…Reaching out to me. That was when I’d first met you, and you were smiling and asking if I was okay, and I’m sure I said something stupid, because I was kind of in awe. But you laughed and told me that I was funny, and I’m quite sure… no, I know that that was the moment that I fell absolutely in love with you, Iris. Or maybe it was a year later when my dad died, and you found me crying in a corner, hours after everyone had left, after they’d all come by to pay their condolences, and you stayed up all night with me, holding me. Looking back, I knew I loved you then. But when you’re a kid, you can’t truly fathom love, but I knew I had a total crush on you, and when I was about sixteen years old, I identified that what I felt for you was love. I was in love with my best friend, but I didn’t know how to tell you, because I was so afraid that I would completely ruin our friendship. And yet, the years that have past since our childhood and young adulthood just strengthened my feelings. I’m more in love with you today than I was when we were children.” As Barry speaks, he holds absolutely nothing back, wearing his heart on his sleeve, and Iris tells herself to steady her breathing. Because she is aware that if she is completely honest with herself, she has known that Barry reciprocates her feelings for a long time, but to have him tell her, to have him say that he’s in love with her… there is nothing that could prepare her for this moment.</p><p>        “You’re incredible, Iris,” Barry continues. “I don’t think you even realize how amazing you are. You jump headlong into seeking the truth, with little care to your own safety, because you so innately believe in the importance of preserving justice and saving lives. You see the best in people, no matter what, but most of all you inspire people. I’ve told you time and again that you’re my hero, Iris West. But more than that, whenever I see you, it’s akin to coming home for me. I’ve struggled with the concept of home and where that might be for me, especially after my dad died when I was a kid, but I’ve realized that home is not a place. It never has been for me. Instead, it’s a person. It’s you. Whenever I need to get away from the rest of the world, my safety net is you. You’re whom I always run to. Because <em>you’re</em> my home, Iris, and you always have been. I love you deeply. And I promise that I’ll dedicate every day to loving you… if you’ll have me of course.” Tears spill from Iris’s eyes then, which Barry immediately catches with his thumbs, gently brushing them aside, as he cups her face. He’s smiling so widely at her, his own eyes glistening, and she finds herself contemplating how surreal this moment truly is.</p><p>        “You really have quite a way with words, Barry Allen,” she says, her voice shaking, slightly.</p><p>        “Only for you. You’re the storyteller, after all. I’m just the boy lucky enough to love you,” he replies, and Iris’s heart soars, completely overwhelmed with love for the man sitting before her.</p><p>        Then she begins,</p><p>        “Well, I suppose I should tell you about the day that I am quite sure was a moment of exceptional clarity for me. We were in the eighth grade, and I was overworked as Editor of the Central City Junior High Gazette, because none of my fellow cub reporters were completing their articles on time. Unfortunately, not all fourteen-year-olds took their responsibilities as junior reporters in training as seriously as I did mine. It was nearing the end of the day, and I still was short two articles, and I was nearly in tears over the stress of the realization that I was going to need to cover two stories by myself, in a matter of twenty-four hours, because we needed to fill the page quota necessary for publication. The door of the classroom opened, and you entered, and I didn’t know what it was about seeing you then, but the moment I saw you, the dam broke, and I was sobbing. And you raced over and hugged me and asked me what was wrong, and when I told you, you simply said that we were going to find two stories to cover together and that you’d stay over at my place for the entire night, if you had to, helping me. And in that moment, I knew everything was going to be okay.</p><p>        Because the truth is Barry, you are my rock. You’re always there for me no matter what, and I didn’t know then why I finally cried only when I saw you, but I know now. I felt safe to fully release my frustrations and anxieties, despite still being in school, because you were with me. Whether you’re entering Jitters to meet me or racing through the doors of the Citizen with Big Belly Burger take-out, I’m home the moment I see you. I love you, Barry. I love you so, so much, and I’m completely yours. I always have been, and I always will be.” At the end of her declaration, Barry is gazing at her both lovingly and ardently, and he says,</p><p>        “And I am totally yours.” With his hands still cupping her face, he surges forward and captures her lips with his, kissing her hungrily and passionately. This kiss is years in the making, and there is no easing into it, as Iris gasps into Barry’s mouth, her hands climbing up his chest, until one hand settles at the nape of his neck, while the other remains near his heart. She presses herself even closer, wanting to be as physically proximate to him as she can, and he evidently wants the same, for he secures one arm around her back, pulling her smoothly into his lap, until she’s straddling him underneath her long gown. There are vague warning bells in her head, reminding her that she might tear her dress, but she is hardly concerned about that, figuring that her dress can certainly weather a night of her finally kissing the love of her life.</p><p>        Meanwhile, Barry’s hands have bunched up the skirt of Iris’s dress to her hips and are roaming the smooth skin of her now bare legs, and his mouth leaves hers and moves to the skin below her earlobe, before slowly kissing the side of her jaw and then her neck.</p><p>        “Have I told you how gorgeous you look?” he murmurs huskily, then, between kisses.</p><p>        “I think you might have,” she chuckles, breathily.</p><p>        “Well, you look absolutely beautiful,” he responds, before kissing her again, this time more languidly, taking his time to really explore her mouth. Iris responds, cupping his chin with one hand, equally enjoying his more relaxed kisses as she did his passionate kisses moments ago.</p><p>        She then pulls away for a moment, and Barry groans, chasing her mouth, but instead she undoes his bowtie, with nimble fingers, and takes in his flushed lips, dilated pupils, and mussed up hair, and she’s sure she has never been more content than in this very moment.</p><p>        “I love you,” she says, as he buries his head in her chest and mumbles something incoherent. “Bear?”</p><p>        He turns his head to the side, so that she can hear him when he states, rather hoarsely,</p><p>        “Iris, when I said I was yours, I meant it. Seriously, I’d literally do anything for you.” Iris smirks at that, maneuvering his head gently away from her chest, so that they were eye to eye, before replying,</p><p>        “That could turn out to be a very dangerous statement, Barry Allen.” Barry grins, rising to the challenge.</p><p>        “I’d be more than happy to indulge in a little danger where it involves Iris West,” he responds. Iris raises her eyebrows at that and brings her lips to Barry’s, coaxing his mouth open with hers. He wraps his arm tightly around her lower back, while his free hand dips under the hem of her gown, bunched up at her waist, brushing his fingers teasingly against the soft skin of her abdomen, while she runs one hand through his hair, as the other unbuttons his dress shirt. Her hips buck against his, and she feels his erection against her core, as she caresses his bare chest with her thumb, soliciting a moan from him, which she quietens by deepening their kiss.</p><p>        Barry lifts Iris, then, and in one movement lays her on the bed, as he hovers over her, before gently moving his lips from hers to trail soft kisses down the length of her neck. Just as he reaches her collarbone, there is a loud banging on their door, and Barry groans loudly, dropping his head to her chest. Iris sighs, running a hand through his hair, when a voice that most definitely belongs to Cisco yells out,</p><p>        “Barry? Iris?”</p><p>        “If we ignore him, do you think he’ll go away?” Barry mumbles, just as Cynthia says rather loudly,</p><p>        “We know you two are in there, so don’t pretend you can’t hear us.” Barry audibly grumbles, while Iris chuckles,</p><p>        “Baby, I admire you wanting to ignore those two, but I really don’t think they’re going to leave.” Barry lets out a puff of breath that fans against Iris’s skin, and he slowly rolls away from her, sitting up and placing a pillow in his lap, perhaps in an attempt to be discrete, although privately Iris knows that Cisco is absolutely going to comment gleefully on his friend’s state of disarray. Meanwhile, she gets up and adjusts her dress, so that it falls back over her legs and walks over to the vanity mirror, grabbing a make-up cloth to wipe off her now smudged lipstick. She’s quite sure that she’s already sporting love bites on her neck and shoulders, but she cannot seem to bring herself to care about concealing them.</p><p>        Once she’s satisfied that she’s as presentable as she can possibly be, given the circumstances, she opens the door of her hotel room and sees Cisco and Cynthia standing by the threshold, both wearing similarly smug expressions.</p><p>        “Iris!” Cisco says, clapping his hands together, dramatically, while Cynthia scrutinizes her, before asking,</p><p>        “What’s that on your neck?” Although her tone suggests that this is no innocent question, and she’s simply trying to put Iris on the spot, Iris refuses to take the bait, instead querying,</p><p>        “Are you two going to come in? I imagine you’re here to deliver urgent news.”</p><p>        “Patience,” Cisco replies, jovially, as he enters the room and spots Barry, sitting on the edge of the bed. At this sight, Cisco seems positively gleeful. “Nice pillow, Barry.”</p><p>        “You are an ass,” Barry mutters darkly, not bothering to greet his friend.</p><p>        “Love you too, man. And by the way,” Cisco chuckles, throwing his arm around Iris. “It’s because of me that this happened.” He gestures between Barry and Iris. “Without me apparently putting Barry through absolute misery today, the two of you would have continued your decades long song and dance of refusing to acknowledge that you are madly in love with each other.” Iris shrugs off Cisco’s arm, rolling her eyes, fondly.</p><p>        “Yeah, yeah, thank you, Cisco,” she says.</p><p>        “Mmhmm, forget West-Allen Matchmakers. I think Ramon and Sons, Experts in Match-Making is the real success story.”</p><p>        “Is that so? Because I’m pretty sure the two of you have been clearly enjoying each other’s company, and Barry and I can definitely take some credit there,” Iris replies, raising an eyebrow, and Cisco blushes at that, tucking his shoulder-length hair behind his ears.</p><p>        “Well, for two people who apparently are champions at setting everyone else up, you sure took a ridiculously long time getting your respective acts together,” Cynthia retorts. At this, Iris saunters over to the edge of the bed, sitting next to Barry and leaning her chin on his shoulder, while he takes one of her hands in one of his.</p><p>        “Maybe. But we’re here now,” Iris replies, as Barry kisses her forehead.</p><p>        “Y’all are cute, I’ll admit,” Cisco says, and Cynthia smiles at the sight of them together.</p><p>        “So, why are you here?” Barry asks, stroking Iris’s knuckles with his thumb. In response, Cisco grabs a chair near the vanity and sits down, while Cynthia seats herself in a cushioned armchair by a round coffee table.</p><p>        “So…,” Cisco begins, pausing for dramatic effect, although his anticipation is not reciprocated by either Barry and Iris, who do not prompt him. “Alright, so, guess who showed up just now, roughly halfway through the ball?” Cisco does not wait for an answer, however, the question apparently rhetorical. “That’s right. Eddie Thawne, accompanied by Katie Rogers. Their appearance so late in the game is not even the real crazy thing, because you’ll never guess what happened when they arrived. Okay, so the two of them show up, and they’re dressed for the occasion, and they head over to Cecile and Joe, where Eddie apologizes profusely, naturally, but then seems to reveal something to Cecile which makes her absolutely ecstatic. And she’s crying and hugging Eddie. Needless to say, we were all quite curious as to what could possibly be going on, but Eddie dispels the suspense quite quickly, when he and Katie head over towards the orchestra, and he abruptly stops the musicians and conductor, before taking a mic and claiming he has a big announcement.</p><p>        He apologizes for being so late, but explains that he has a reason for being late, and this reason is that he has big news that will bring everyone at this ball immense joy, or so he claims. And he proceeds to announce that he and Katie just eloped and got married.” At this, Barry and Iris exchange flabbergasted looks, before turning back to Cisco.</p><p>        “Excuse me?” Iris says, as Barry’s brow furrows contemplatively.</p><p>        “They got married,” Cisco repeats, shrugging his shoulders. “I know, I know. But that’s where they were today, apparently. Getting married. I’m ninety percent sure, though, that this was a decision made on the fly.”</p><p>        “But they clearly were having some sort of argument yesterday that we all were not privy to.”</p><p>        “Yep. I still don’t know what that’s all about, but I have a theory from talking to Katie afterwards. I obviously went up to congratulate them, because what the hell else are we supposed to do, and I was like, ‘Oh this is very nice and all, but this seems sudden.’ She was really cagey, but kind of let it slip that she was pissed that Eddie was keeping their romance a secret from his family, who wouldn’t approve of his involvement with her or some shit, so Katie had given him an ultimatum of her own that if he didn’t get serious with her, she was going to leave him. Guess that kicked his ass into gear.” Iris notices Barry watching Cisco closely, as he takes this in, nodding along. Cisco’s explanation appears to have given him some clarity on the situation.</p><p>        “That makes sense,” Barry sighs, shaking his head. “I think I may have somehow ended up as the scapegoat, while Katie was trying to make a point to Eddie. But it’s just… god I’m such an idiot, because all the while, Iris was hurt by all this mess, and that is on me… I should have been clear about setting the record straight.”</p><p>        “Hey, Bear, it’s okay,” Iris soothes. “It really doesn’t matter.”</p><p>        “It does matter,” Barry exclaims. “It does matter, because all of that hurt you, Iris. And it’s just… god, this is my fault, and…” But Iris has heard enough, and she grasps both his hands in her own.</p><p>        “Barry,” she says firmly. “We’ve been over this. What happened last night was not your fault. None of this is your fault. You couldn’t possibly have known about Katie and Eddie’s romantic drama. It seems like nobody knew that they were secretly dating.”</p><p>        “You’re right,” Barry replies. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have gotten so angry, but just the mere thought of Katie’s callousness, by trying to insinuate what she did about me and her, all because she was trying to make Eddie jealous, having hurt you is so infuriating.”</p><p>        “I love you,” Iris whispers, brushing her lips against Barry’s jaw, just as Cisco clears his throat loudly,</p><p>        “Hey, I know y’all are in that insufferable, just got together officially phase and all, but we’re still here, and I haven’t even gotten to the best part of the story.”</p><p>        “Yeah,” Cynthia interrupts, clearly fed up with Cisco’s prolonging. “Patty dumped a glass of wine over Eddie’s head.” Barry and Iris turn to each other, sharing a surprised look, as Iris observes,</p><p>        “And here Barry and I were thinking that we’ve had our fair share of romantic mishaps. Seems as if we don’t really know what actual romantic mishaps encompass, after all.” Cisco, however, is clearly affronted that Cynthia had botched his story-telling,</p><p>        “That’s not how you tell a story, Cyn. You have to ease into the best part to build up the anticipation.”</p><p>        “Please, there’s no building up anticipation with Barry and Iris, other than them anticipating our departure.”</p><p>        “True,” Barry says, chuckling. “And also, I know Eddie definitely didn’t deserve to get wine poured all over him… or maybe he did, who knows, but that’s undoubtedly a sight that I’d have liked to witness.” Thus, Iris is reminded of one remaining mystery, namely the prickly nature of all of Barry and Eddie’s interactions that she has witnessed, so she inquires accordingly,</p><p>        “By the way, Bear. Why do you dislike Eddie so much? I don’t recall you two having spent all that much time together to have developed animosity towards each other.” Barry’s eyes widen at that, and he resembles a deer caught in the headlights, which Iris, naturally, finds incredibly endearing.</p><p>        “Oh my god, you never told her?” Cisco cuts in, looking positively maniacal at this discovery. Barry begins shaking his head frantically at Cisco, but his attempts at preventing his friend from talking are of no avail. “So, the first time Barry and Eddie crossed paths was at some garden party Cecile hosted, and you took Barry as your guest or something. I don’t know the details, because I only have secondhand information from Barry, but basically Eddie tried to insinuate that he might be interested in you to goad Barry, probably, because he, like everyone else except for you two, knew how you both felt about each other. Anyways, Barry had some really harsh words for Eddie, and since then the two of them can’t stand the sight of each other. Talk about the world’s fastest rivalry for no real, concrete reason.”</p><p>        “I hate you,” Barry groans, burying his face in his hands, but Iris refuses to let Barry wallow in embarrassment, so she nudges him with her shoulder, leaning into him.</p><p>        “I think you having… how did it Cisco put it?... Harsh words… is hot, Bear,” she says. He turns to her, with a small smile,</p><p>        “Yeah?”</p><p>        “Yeah.” He cups her cheek with one hand, his fingers burying into her hair, and kisses her soundly.</p><p>        “Okay, okay,” Cynthia interrupts, getting up. “We’re leaving. Have fun, you two.”</p><p>        “See ya!” Cisco yells, as Cynthia takes his arm and pulls him to the door. “And remember, this is because of me. I’m the real matchmaker around here.” Once they exit the room, Cisco still chattering away, Barry releases an audible sigh of relief and mumbles,</p><p>        “Thank god.” Iris laughs, leaning her forehead against his, closing her eyes, before stating,</p><p>        “You do know that I was never interested in anyone but you, right? I could never really make it work with anyone else, because I was so in love with you. I am so in love with you.”</p><p>        “I know. And I never could be interested in any other person other than you, not when you have always had my heart,” Barry replies, before continuing, “Also, just to clarify, Eddie and I don’t despise each other or anything; we’re just never going to be friends.”</p><p>        “Mm, well, I don’t think you two will be seeing each other very often outside of occasional social gatherings.”</p><p>        “Yeah.” They stay like that, foreheads resting together, taking comfort in each other’s arms, before Iris says,</p><p>        “I don’t think I’ve ever been happier than I am in this moment.” Barry smiles widely at that, adjusting so that he’s holding her face in both of his hands.</p><p>        “Iris, you have no idea how deeply happy you make me,” he whispers against her lips, his tone reverent as he acknowledges the depth of his love for her. “I love you. I love you so, very much.” A tear escapes him then, which Iris wipes away gently with her thumb, before pressing her lips to his, as she delights in the knowledge that he is hers to love and she is his to love for the rest of their lives.</p><p>*</p><p>
  <em>One and a half years later</em>
</p><p>        Iris sighs contentedly, leaning back against Barry’s chest, his arm wrapped around her waist. She is seated in his lap, like a bride (which, in fact, she is), her white tulle skirt fanning around both of them. All around her there seems to be a flurry of activity, as she assesses the myriad of guests in attendance at her wedding reception.</p><p>        Wally and Linda are attempting to feed their baby twins, and despite their bemoaning that they cannot quite get this parenting thing down, they seem to be doing a wonderful job at soothing their agitated twins and getting them to eat some mashed foods, which they had brought with them in portable Tupperware. Every time Linda manages to feed a twin, Wally gives her an exaggerated kiss on the cheek, which seems to highly amuse the babies, who giggle uncontrollably at this.</p><p>        Her father, with whom she had recently danced the father-daughter dance, is regaling some folks with stories about when she was young and how he always knew she was going to grow into an absolute journalistic star. Usually, Iris would be embarrassed by her father’s bragging, but today she lets him sing her praises, for it is her big day after all. Cecile is chatting with friends at a table, and seated near her are Eddie and Katie Thawne, whom Cecile requested be invited, much to Barry’s chagrin, and who are also expecting a baby, as Katie is already sporting a baby bump. Patty is also in attendance, which Iris had initially worried might be awkward, given that there is a good chance that Patty would run into Eddie, but Patty recently reconnected with an old boyfriend, and she brought him as her date. Plus, Patty has managed to completely ignore the Thawnes, at least thus far. Cisco and Cynthia, who have been dating for over a year now, appear to be in their own little world together, heavily flirting with each other at their table. Caitlin and Ronnie are sitting next to Cisco and Cynthia, but they don’t seem particularly concerned with the other couple’s flirting, for they are preoccupied with entertaining their two-year-old daughter.</p><p>        Allegra, Kamilla, and James are all laughing about something, and Iris is glad that they are enjoying themselves, for she knows that last week was a highly stressful time at the Citizen, because they had finally published a piece, on which all the Citizen’s reporters worked for weeks on end (now a team of nearly fifty reporters, for the amount of positive publicity that had resulted from the McCulloch Tech exposé had catapulted the Citizen into journalistic stardom, particularly after Iris had been awarded a Peabody Award and Kamilla a World Press Photo Award for their work on the article), exposing a massive eviction scam, which implicated three local politicians. So, Iris is grateful that the three reporters seem to be relaxed and happy, the stresses of last week hopefully dissipating. As for Kara, she appears to have discovered the scrumptious doughnut display near the dessert buffet and is evidently in heaven. </p><p>        Iris’s Great-Aunt Esther sits at the head of the West family table, friendly, but reserved and still ever so beautiful. Barry and Iris are seated one table down from her, and when Great-Aunt Esther catches Iris’s eye, she winks at her favorite grand-niece, perhaps reinforcing the sentiment that she had voiced to Iris earlier that day that she is the happiest she could ever be to see her dearest grand-niece marry the love of her life.</p><p>
  <em>        “Your Mama, My Francine… she would be so proud of the woman you have become,” Great-Aunt Esther tells Iris right before Joe arrives to walk her down the aisle. Tears roll down Iris’s cheeks, as her Great-Aunt gathers her into her arms. “I know, sweetheart. I know.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>        “I miss her so, so much. Every single day,” Iris whispers.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>        “She is always, always with you.”</em>
</p><p>        The memory from this morning is one Iris knows she will cherish deeply, but while she relives that moment, she notices that there now appears to be trouble, for Barry’s mother, Nora, joins Joe, and they both start telling the tale of how they knew Barry and Iris were always going to get married from the moment they witnessed the two interact as young children. Surely, the two of them would somehow manage to recount the numerous occasions on which Barry and Iris play-acted getting married as children, usually with a stuffed dinosaur presiding.</p><p>        “When Barry came home from the playground that day after meeting Iris,” Nora says loudly, “He went running up to his dad and said, ‘Dad! I met the most beautiful girl in the world today. I think I want to marry her.’ And my late husband said, ‘Well, slugger, love is about reciprocity. Focus on getting to know her. And who knows, maybe one day, we’ll be attending yours and Iris’s wedding.’ And here we are.” Upon hearing his mother retell this particular story, Barry drops his forehead to Iris’s shoulder, groaning quietly, so that only she can here.</p><p>        “It’s bad already, and they’re just getting started,” Barry mutters, kissing his wife’s shoulder. “I think we should make our great escape right about now.” Iris smiles, running a hand through Barry’s hair, as she feels Barry’s lips move upward, slowly beginning to trail kisses from her shoulder to her neck. </p><p>        “Bear, if you’re trying to get me to agree to leave with you right now…” Iris whispers, attempting to maneuver herself discreetly so that the guests cannot see her husband kissing her neck.</p><p>        “Is it working?” Barry asks, looking up at her and smiling.</p><p>        “You know it is,” she sighs, and he appears supremely smug at that. “But we do have to stick around for a while longer, after all this is our wedding reception. We can’t just cut out early.” Barry mumbles his half-hearted assent, although he seems unconvinced, before caressing his fingers against Iris’s arm, gazing at her, suddenly contemplative. “What is it?” she queries, softly.</p><p>        “I just can’t believe it. I can’t believe we’re here, finally, at our wedding reception. I think it really only hit me that I’m marrying you when I saw you walk down the aisle, and you are so, so beautiful and amazing and wonderful, and I realized that I’m truly lucky enough to marry the girl of my dreams,” Barry replies, and Iris frames his face with her hands, leaning forward gently, so her forehead rests against his.</p><p>        “Those tears were real huh?” she teases, gently. Barry chuckles, and because they are so closely pressed together, she feels the reverberations of his laugh against her own chest.</p><p>        “Completely real.”</p><p>        “So were mine,” Iris says, her lips just a hair’s length away from his. “Because just as it was overwhelming for you to watch me walking down the aisle, I was incredibly overwhelmed with happiness and love seeing you standing at the end of the aisle, looking so dapper, and knowing that I finally get to marry the love of my life, who is the most amazing man that I know.” Barry’s eyes glisten with unshed tears, touched by her words, and he brushes his nose against Iris’s, murmuring against her lips,</p><p>        “I love you, Mrs. West-Allen.” Iris responds by kissing him once gently, and they are silent for a few moments, foreheads still touching, and contemplating the depth of their love for one another. Then, Barry shakes his head fondly and remarks, jokingly,</p><p>        “You and I are complete saps.”</p><p>        “Eloquent saps,” Iris corrects, laughing. “But that’s why we’re perfect for each other.”</p><p>        “Mm, true,” Barry says, taking her hand in his own and bringing their joined hands to his lips and kissing her fingers one by one. “I love you so much, Iris.”</p><p>        “I love you,” Iris replies, before her expression becomes more mischievous. “It’s a shame we don’t have balloons at our reception.”</p><p>        “Why? Were you planning on wrangling some into our car? Personally, I’d be game. I only got to witness you successfully fit those balloons into your car last time, an admirable feat, I might add.” Iris shakes her head fondly, feigning mild exasperation, while Barry laughs.</p><p>        “Spoken like someone who has never had the view from his rear mirror constantly marred by inflated balloons,” Iris sighs. “And so no, I do not want to attempt to take any inflated balloons with us in a car, but I guess I was just feeling slightly nostalgic, because it was at my dad and Cecile’s wedding reception that I think I realized that I’ve always been in love with you.” Iris looks down at their intertwined hands, while Barry’s gaze becomes solemn, then, as he tucks an errant strand of hair that had come undone from her elaborate bun behind her ear.</p><p>        “Well, that was also the night I first really told you how I felt,” Barry replies, and Iris glances up at him, surprised. “Yeah. Do you remember when I said that something incredible has always been in front of me, and I just really should throw caution to the wind?”</p><p>        “I remember. You were talking about me. About us,” Iris whispers, and Barry nods, caressing her cheek gently, his touch warm and comforting against her skin.</p><p>        “Yeah. I guess that was one of the many times I really came close to spilling my heart out to you, but Linda was also there, and I figured your dad’s wedding reception probably wasn’t a good place to tell you how I feel. Although I do think the spirit of weddings prompted that particular confession that night.”</p><p>        “It’s silly now, looking back, but I remember thinking that you were talking about someone else at the time, and that’s when I truly realized that I am absolutely in love with you and have been for years.”</p><p>        “I know that was all cleared up quite quickly, but I could never have been ever talking about anyone else,” Barry says, and Iris smiles, turning her face into his hand and placing a soft kiss on his palm.</p><p>        “I know, Bear,” she replies, but from his expression, she can sense his adamancy about providing abundant clarity.</p><p>        “It only has ever been you, Iris. It only has ever been you,” he whispers, and she lays her head against his chest, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat underneath her palm, before murmuring,</p><p>        “And you’re the only one. You’ve always been the only one. And you and I have the rest of our lives to tell each other every day.” Barry adjusts, so that she is completely encircled by his arms, while he presses his lips to the crown of her head, as she, in turn, wraps her arm snugly around his waist.</p><p>        “The rest of our lives,” he echoes, as his arms tighten around her. Iris smiles, glancing up at Barry, and remarks,</p><p>        “Sounds pretty amazing, doesn’t it?” And he grins widely, bending his head towards hers and whispering,</p><p>        “Absolutely incredible,” against her lips, before kissing her soundly.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Thanks for reading! I hope you enjoyed this Westallen (loosely inspired by) Emma AU story.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
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